


The Book of Levi; And Other Fantastic Fairy Tales

by tiniestdormouse



Series: The Book of Levi Story-verse [1]
Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/F, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Family Drama, Fluff, Gen, Other, Psychological Drama, Romance, phbigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 97,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiniestdormouse/pseuds/tiniestdormouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away, there lives a man who is known to be many things: ruler, trickster, scientist, artist, rebel, philosopher.</p><p>His name is Levi Baskerville.</p><p>His story jumps from his upbringing in the Baskerville House to his actions during the Pre-Tragedy arc until the present era and every time in between.</p><p>It is a tale of a simple, flawed man, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing (or so he thinks, or so he fears).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One and Only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+fandom).



> Disclaimer: The Book of Levi is a not-for-profit fanwork production. All rights to images, characters, logos, and names included therein from the Pandora Hearts anime/manga series are owned by Jun Mochizuki, Yen Press, and Square Enix respectively. Various dialogue and passages from The Book of Levi are taken from the Yen Press translations, unless otherwise stated. The author does not claim ownership of the translation text included in this fan work.
> 
> All original elements — including story text, characters, and other related fan-creations — are owned by their respective creators. No fanwork from this work may be duplicated or redistributed without expressed permission from the original creator. 
> 
> Rating/ Warnings: T for mature themes, some sexual references, mild swearing and violence. Warnings for mentions of child abuse and child grooming.
> 
> Written for the PH Big Bang (phbigbang.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find art, fanmixes, story bonuses & more at the-book-of-levi.tumblr.com

“Read and be curious. And if somebody says to you: ‘Things are this way. You can’t change it.’ Don’t believe a word.”

— Cornelia Funke

* * *

 

What's the difference between "one" and "only"?

Levi muses upon this while sitting on the placid stillness rippling beneath him, dark and impenetrable as tar but fluid as a lake. The surface of humanity's world-consciousness is the theological way of describing it, or the flow of a person's subconscious, speaking psychologically. But he has abandoned all of his learning from his living days and merely calls it "the Flow." The term has a mysterious aesthetic quality to it, and if nothing else, Levi has not forgotten his aesthetics here trapped in the prison of this human boy's soul.

No true light, sound, motion exist in the Flow. No true visceral sense, either, though the impression of a sense (from memory, from desire) can still exist. Levi smells the cuff of his sleeve and the whiff of peony remains, even after over a hundred years. A final sense-memory from her.  

She was an "only" -- a Child of Misfortune, a person so significant to history that she will never be repeated for as long as the cycles of reincarnation exist, for as long as this multiverse exists. How foolish of Levi, to be told all of this information decades too late. A factor he failed to take into account in his experiment gone wrong. And the reveal -- all from that craggy-faced hag Jury, before Oswald's incredulous face!  What an info-dump! What terrible writing! If Levi had penned this tale, that scene would have been played less for drama and more for intellectual and existential suffering.

Then again, he had failed at authorship as well. Couldn't even resolve his own storyline properly.

A smirk, a laugh. Levi throws this head back and enjoys the sound of his own guffaws echoing off into the nothingness (the memory of his voice, the imitation of voice?)

From the shadows, a figure. Oswald -- the man Levi raised and taught and loved -- the control group he had agreed to monitor. Oswald glares from the forefront of the human boy's consciousness; all of his focus is on controlling that teenager's body and not upon him. Not that Oswald pays much attention to his caregiver; the former Glen had spoken to his predecessor a disgruntled handful of times over the last sixteen years, no matter how much Levi tries to start up a conversation with him.

Such as now, for instance.

It is the boy who asks the question.

"What's so funny?"

The owner of this prison, weak and soul-injured, had been thrown into another corner of the Flow. Levi stops his mirth, sides over his gaze, knowing that Leo is planning something of his own. Is it the proper time to goad? Taunt? Poke with a proverbial stick and see what happens?

"Everything. Our storybook lives. This race to alter the past," he drawls, waving a hand about him. "Especially Mr. Pouty over there, plotting to murder his sister before her time."

"You're horrid." Yet Leo stares angrily at the watery floor, as if unsure who to narrow his eyes at: the white-haired fool or the bitter monster.

"Oh, Leo, it's quite hilarious. Oswald believes he is the one able to resolve this farce by murdering his only sister. Well, 'murdering her a bit earlier than planned' is a better way to phrase it."

Levi sees the shoulders of his protege tighten and a flat, emotionless smirk crosses his face. Lacie, the only one who will ever exist.

The difference between "one" and "only", Levi decides, isn't a verbal measure in degrees or an example of sophistry.

"Boy."

The two lift their heads to see a flourish of dark as Oswald's cloak swirls about him.

"It is only murder if the person does not wish to die. You never knew Lacie; she knew her purpose. She'd understand."

Though Oswald hadn't addressed him, Levi replies, "Assuming you kill her before she meets Jack. How old would she be? Thirteen? How about younger? Ten? Seven?" Aim right to the heart of it. "I'm sure she'll understand as much as you had at those ages."

Oswald doesn't answer.

Far in the shadows, figures move. The other Glens. They have been meandering in their own private torments for so long, Levi barely acknowledges most anymore (unless one happened to intrude in front of him, blubbering or screaming or repeating whatever conversations they held in their own heads from eons ago...)

A wooden tap and a familiar silhouette. The sudden movement catches Levi's attention. After so much time, will these poor souls actually react to them? To him? Do they still reason and feel as human anymore?

But the silhouette melds in with the masses and Levi loses sight of them. For some reason, he exhales slowly, as if holding in the breath.

In this strange, impossible, terrible world, it is a stipulation that there will always be One needed to command it. One, then is a constant. Always one Glen. Interchangeable. Replaceable. Fated. Trapped.

To be Only is to exist beyond the One. To be Only -- a Child of Misfortune -- is to exist like a miracle. Once and never again. To be Only is to truly be Free.

Levi chuckles at the irony, that the person who was truly free was never himself, the liberated thinker, but the person who bargained her freedom away in an agreement he arranged.

Oswald shifts his sword hand, places the palm on the hilt.

"Are you going to chop me up?" Levi grins. "You already did that. Not that it's changed anything in the long run."

A huff, a sweep of Oswald's cloak. Leo stares, round-eyed from the place between them. Levi knows if it came down to a battle between Oswald and Levi, the youth would do nothing. Not because he was afraid but because he hoped one would destroy the other and he'd finally have a body again. Not that would actually happen.

"Oswald has become so morose the last dozen years. I worry about his emotional well-being, honestly," Levi tells him. "He likes to take his rage out on me sometimes. I'm sure it relieves the tension. Or the boredom. We're as right as rain now, aren't we, Oswald?"

The palm clenches around the hilt, but it is Leo who speaks.

"Shut up." He rises to his feet. "You insufferable old man."

"Insufferable?" The smile vanishes from his face. "Child, suffering is irrelevant. Suffering, pain, torment, fear, regret, anger." He throws himself flat on the Flow, spreading his limbs. "Happiness, joy, love, hope, dreams. Anything a human being can feel has no significance to us. We are just the Ones who keep everyone else's illusion of those things going. We are Glen, after all."

"You make no sense!" Leo's expression is bitter. "I'm still human; I still feel and gods be damned that bastard," an accusing finger to Oswald, "does too."

"Give it a couple of decades to sink in." Levi rolls onto his side, props himself up on his elbows and kicks his feet into the air in a girlish pose. "The sooner it does, though, less hassle you'll be to the rest of us."

Another difference between "one" and "only," Levi realizes.

One doesn't necessarily mean you are alone.

Makes sense. Not that Levi holds religion close to heart anymore, but as a philosopher-priest he read once noted, "Hell is other people."

Yet while in hell, a person can still anticipate the end of the world.

**  
  
  
  
**


	2. Flight

All of the interesting things in this world flew, Levi decided at six years old. Birds flew in flocks or pairs, or singles, darting about the gardens. Fireflies floated in the air during eveningtide, winked their tiny luminescence outside of his window. The moon made a single arc through the sky every night, growing thinner and fatter as the weeks go by. And, of course, the bright lights flew (and they whispered sometimes too).

Levi was determined to fly too.

Fang had caught him weeks before, carrying an injured bird between his tiny hands. "She's broken," he told his personal guard. "I was trying to fix her again."

The starling was injured, and Levi hadn't helped, his probing fingers trying to push the creature's fragile bones into place. Seeing the worry lines crease on his forehead, Fang scooped the starling into his hands.

"You won't fix her that way," he said, and took the little boy by the hand inside to find a small box and rags. He showed Levi how to wrap the wing and pin it by her side and feed her warm mushed oats and bits of grubs (Levi pinched those from greenhouse compost himself, quite proud). As the days passed, Levi returned to the box where he kept her, talking to her softly and trying to stroke the top of her head. She hopped about, preening her chest, twitching her head and slipping away from what she deemed a dangerous touch.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he had said to her. "I just wanna know your secret."

Now Fang, returning from that morning's meeting (the King's Ambassador was expected for his routine council meeting soon), he spotted Levi among the branches of the tallest tree, arms spread and draped with a strange flapping thing made of feathers and silks over a skeleton of branches tied by twine.

"Young Master, hold onto the trunk," Fang called, running toward him.

"Fang, look! I figured it out," Levi announced proudly. The constructed materials billowed between his stick-thin arms; sunlight caught in his stark white hair. The starling, his newest friend, hopped to and fro on his shoulder and, as if coaching him, spread her wings and swooped down and away.

"Young Master Levi-"

When Levi fell, it was a blur of color and motion and feathers lazily fluttering to the ground in his wake. The starling looped around, emitting shrill cries.

Fang reached his side too late and Levi's back was twisted the wrong way, his arms askew. He landed onto the low rocky partition between the grove of trees and the rose garden, his spine cracked upon the stones. When the child breathed, Fang saw a rib stick up beneath the fine silk of his shirt.

He had witnessed worse things, but nonetheless Fang paled, halted, raised his hands, and let them flutter over the boy's torso, as if he knew the magic spells to mend him.

"Young Master, don't move- don't move," then shouting, "Doug! Call Glen and the bonesetter!"

The child blinked rapidly. His left arm twitched, dragging a bit of twine and making the torn wing shift as well. "F-fang-- can't-- breathe--"

"Don't speak, please." Fang held Levi's hand. "Lie still. We're getting help soon."

Levi's eyes squinted up. Where did his starling go? A watery gasp.

"Will? I? Die?"

"No, young Master. You won't."

A speck in flight high above him.

She abandoned him for the sky.

* * *

 

Levi was in a warm soft place, and something soothing covered his limbs. He felt buoyant, floating. Flying. He did it, he really--

A pale glowing face greeted Levi when he rose to consciousness.

Pain. Dull aching pain from his sternum to his neck and radiated in a throbbing rhythm.

"Levi, sweetheart." Warm hands. A long white curtain of hair drapes over him as the young woman stands over his bedside. Her large eyes seemed to encompass most of her kittenish face, and strain pulled at their sloping corners. Her small palms cupped either side of his face, and he noticed that she had been weeping.

"Mama," he said.

"Mama's here, darling. Oh, Levi, my baby." The hands on his face tightened, making his cheeks hurt.

Levi inhaled, exhaled, and that stabbing pain which happened before with the action had gone.

"Did you see me fly?"

She only bit her lower lip, shook her head back and forth. The soft sweep of hair that framed her face bounced.

"Lady Leah," said a calm voice near the foot of his bed.

Glen glided forward, his heeled shoes moving noiselessly along the plush carpeting. In the half-light, Levi noticed the bright soft glow of his hair: a smooth flow of thin braids that shone like burnished gold, and stands out against the deep rust orange of his frock coat. Glen was the only person who wore his hair this way, so Levi thought it must be a mark of authority.

Glen moved a cord of this majestic hair off his shoulders with one smooth movement of his head as he sat down on the cushioned chair by the bedside.

"Please leave us."

His mother gave the Baskerville leader a long look, and Glen touched her chin and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. The kiss seemed to mollify her anxieties and she bobbed her head, gave a brief curtsy and a, "Your Grace," before her short stature slipped out the bedroom door.

Levi had been alone with Glen only once before, when the noble confided in him an important truth about their nature. Every other time, Levi saw the leader in the audience chamber of the castle only when summoned, and he'd stand there with Mama all dressed in his finery. During these appointments, Glen asked how his day went, if his governess had taught him anything interesting, if Fang and Doug were being good play-mates. Though Glen seemed very intimidating sitting in that great gold and silver throne, longstaff in hand, Levi never felt shy chatting with Glen all about his day, and Mama smiled at his stories.  Yet now, somehow, he felt a hard stone lodge in his throat seeing him by the bedside.

"How are you feeling, Levi?"

He eventually worked his voice past that lump, and the truth Glen told him came out as a small squeak. "I can't die yet. You told me!"

"And because you cannot die yet, you try foolish things that scare Mr. Fang and your mother?" Glen frowned, dark brow furrowing. "You can still break. You were lucky we made sure you healed correctly. It would be sad if your body stayed that way, you know," he added with a low tsking noise.

Levi recalled the stray rib, the anguished breath. "I'd be stuck like that?"

"Unless you want to be re-broken and fixed. Twice as painful." Glen cupped his chin in both hands, leaned them on his knees. "You wanted to join your pet in the air?"

"I wanted to fly. 'Twas a speriment."

"Experiment?"

"That's what I said." Levi frowned. "Why aren't we like birds?"

"Oh, the Will has its ways," Glen answered. A saying Glen often used, but Levi never really understood who the Will was. "But you want to see an amazing bird?" The twinkle in his dark eyes shone like a found shard of glass glinting in the earth.

Levi nodded and Glen raised a hand.

The shadows of the room darkened and appeared to expand. The wick of the bedside lamp flared up suddenly, and along the wall through the canopy curtains Levi saw wings. Many wings. All emerging from the darkness. The wings stretched along the walls, reaching toward Glen's outstretched hand. They crawled along the ground, reaching for the bed curtains. Above the lampshade, a single bird-shaped head twisted along the wall, one bulbous yellow eye glowing within.

The shadow bird's eye centered upon Levi; the large beak opened. A sound, deep and multiple and terrifying, emerged from the throats of a thousand avian creatures.

"Young Master Levi," the bird cried. "Fly with us."

Levi froze, part in wonder, part in fright that would have crossed over into pure terror if not for the presence of Glen.

"This is the Raven. Part of the Raven, at least." Glen made another movement of his hand and all of the wings and shadows collapsed into one giant monster of a creature; an immense Raven crowded out Levi's entire vision.

"He's too big." Levi huddled in his sheets. "Too big."

Indeed, the creature seemed about ready to burst out of the room itself and crush him whole. The glowing eyes bore down, the skull-colored beak parted to expose a glowing blue flame.

Glen grabbed underneath his arms, lifting Levi from the covers with one arm and grasping the inky-black feathers of the creature's neck in the other. Levi threw both arms around his master's neck, burying his face in his shoulder and shutting his eyes.

"Hold on," he commanded and the room whirled about them; Levi saw the shapes outlined by the darkness and light of the room stretched into streaks and then blurred; his breath escaped him, his tiny legs wrapped around Glen's waist, he felt the other person pull both arms around him and suddenly--

The night sky burst into view. Cold wind enveloped Levi. The moon, suddenly huge and immense above them, shone, and the stars were like balls of white fire. Below them sat the castle, so small, and the rolling black forests and the scattered lights of villages and a silvery twist of a river through it all.

Levi barely had time to catch another breath before he felt the night dew of the grass beneath his bare feet. They somehow had soared miles high and then returned to the gardens of the castle in the span of a minute. Glen lowered him to the ground and sat on the lawn, laughing at the expression on the child's face.

"Did you enjoy that?"

He nodded. "What kind of bird is that?"

"The Raven. He is one of the many flying Chains you will have. Look, a gift." Glen reached from behind Levi's ear and pulled out a midnight black feather as long as Levi's forearm. Levi's mouth formed a tiny O as he gently plucked the feather from Glen's hand.

"When will the Raven will be mine?"

"Soon, child." Glen touched the top of his head, tousled it lightly. "Very soon."

  
  


 

 


	3. The Man from the Big House

"My turn, my turn." Celia fidgeted, kicking her small feet against the curtained edge of the padded couch. "You've been at this forever."

"Hold on," Levi snapped, "I'm not done." He held five twists of hair his hands, braiding them in a complex strand down his cousin's back. His own hair was undone, sweeping past his shoulder-blades. His governess did not approve of the style, saying that only redheaded barbarians kept their hair long and untied, but he enjoyed feeling the snowy curtain against his neck. And it was fun throwing his pale hair in front of his face and pretending to be a ghost chasing people around the room (he swore that Mama and Fang only pretended to be sacred, and he couldn't really scare Celia, since she claimed he stomped around the room like elephants no matter how sneaky he tried to be.)

He tied off the end with a piece of scarlet ribbon. Doug, who sailed around the world before docking permanently in this country, taught him all sorts of knots and braids he used to make rope. He asked Doug once if Glen had been a sailor once too, which is why he liked braids so much, and the hunchbacked man only smiled and replied at least Glen swore like one.

"There! Feel that." Celia brushed her hands slowly down the center of her head, running her fingers over the ridges and twists. Her hair was darker and more wiry than his and harder to work with but she smiled at his accomplishments. "Does it look pretty?"

"I always make pretty things," Levi assured her.

"My turn!" Celia guided his shoulders to position him before her on the couch. He placed the brush in her hands and she traced the sides of his head before pulling the stiff bristles through.

Celia was also part of his personal guard, though Levi had known her much longer than anyone else at Baskerville castle, even longer than his mother. They both shared a room before they came to live with Glen, a cramped little closet in a small part of the Big House. The day his mother came for them to live at the Baskerville castle, it was Celia who recognized his mother's voice and the contours of her face. Levi only vaguely recalled her before then, but implicitly trusted his cousin to know better, especially since she was four whole years older than him (a fact that she only boasted about once in a while).

"I'm going to try something different," she said. "Something I learned."

She parted his hair near the scalp, pulling back locks and gathering a small bit in her delicate hands. Tiny, concise pulls she worked to create a tiny, plaited ridge alongside his head. The bare skin she exposed felt cold in the open air.

"Hey, not so tight. It itches."

"Shush. Any looser and it won't feel right." Her hands massaged themselves over his head and Levi leaned back toward her touch, begrudgingly enjoying the sensation. When she finished, she had a set of three rows planted across the left side of his head, with the ends falling in with the rest of his loose hair. Levi arched his eyebrows as he surveyed her work in a hand mirror. "Did Glen teach you how to make royal hair?"

Celia laughed. "My aunties wore hair like this all the time."

A mark of sadness in her tone as she said this. Levi never met any of Celia's aunties or uncles. He knew that these people were not his blood family either, though he always thought of Celia as his cousin. She also called him and Mama her "bond family", since they had come together through the Big House, but it didn't mean she felt for them any less.

"So Glen is from where you're from?"

Celia tossed her head. "I dunno."

"Ah." Once, he asked Mama if he lived anywhere else before the Big House when he was a baby and she only replied, "Let's not talk about it anymore. Aren't we happy here?"

"Young Master, Lady Celia." Fang stood at the door, bowed to them. "Supper is ready."

"Yum! Is it the boar again? I like boar." Levi hopped off the couch. Celia felt for her golden cane by the armrest and the two children left the salon for the main hall.

Halfway there, Celia grabbed Levi's arm as she and Fang both halted. "Hear that?" she asked Fang and the older man nodded.

"What is-?" But then Levi heard it -- the sounds of shouting and the clang of metal on metal.

"Lady Celia, escort young master back to your rooms." Fang gripped his scabbard handle as the sounds increased.

Soldiers in strange uniforms appeared from around the corner, locked in a battle as red-cloaked Baskervilles descended on them, trying to halt their process.

"Go!"

Celia collapsed her cane, and with the knowledge gained from years of wandering by herself, grabbed Levi's hand and dragged him where they had come.

"What did you see?" Celia asked as they ran.

"They were in weird uniforms. They're not our King's Men." But what struck Levi was how every single person shared the same pale, nearly translucent skin and stark white hair as his own. He couldn't remember anyone else who resembled him and Mama so much.

They turned another corner but Levi jerked his cousin back. "Up ahead!" he gasped. More foreign soldiers already arrived at his quarters, swarming around the doorway and inside.

"The Tower!" gasped Celia, pressing a hand to the wall. "Levi, take us to the shortcut."

"Yes!" Levi pulled Celia though the shadows, toward one of the imposing angel statues that flanked every other corner. He pressed a hand against the third stone to the right of the angel's feet and clunking sound echoed. Levi bit his lip. Did the intruders hear?

A crack emerged along the wall and together, he and Celia pulled the stone door wide enough to slip through. For a moment, Levi was bewildered by the sudden darkness of the tunnel but Celia was already pushing the secret entryway closed, the slant of light disappearing as the stone locked together again.

"Hurry," she said, extending her cane and moving forward. Levi's eyes adjusted in a few before he took hold of the back of Celia's skirts as the two walked through the musty tunnel.

The walk felt like forever but soon they came to a second stone door. Another moment as Celia searched for the keystone -- Levi trusted her touch, compared to his hindered eyesight -- and there was a waft of evening air hitting his cheeks.

Through the gardens, cloaked in twilight, was the rear of the Tower. There, they would be safe.

Levi hoped his mother hadn't left to join them at supper.

"Young Master Levi, Lady Celia!" A tall figure met them at the base of the tower. Immediately, Celia bent her head and Levi also did the same, giving formal bows to the head of the Baskervilles.

Glen already had his sword out and Mama was by his side. She reached for the children, clutching them to her chest and whispering, "Thank the gods."

"In the Tower," ordered Glen.

"Baskerville!"

Levi turned his head and saw a squad of foreigners enter the garden, lead by a lanky, ghost-like man. The man was dressed in the same richness as Glen did, and a cape of deep purple hung down his shoulders. "Is that the King?" he asked, but Mama shushed him.

"What kind of miscreant upstart dares intrude upon my home?" Glen kept his voice steady.

Levi worried they were now cornered, but along the walls of the Tower courtyard he could see the falling shadows of various red-cloaked guards taking position at the top. Several of these people had directed the giant mounted crossbows directly at the intruders. Their sharpened steel tips glinted in the fading twilight. Glen, without looking, raised his left hand and the cross-bows were lowered.

"I only treat your home the same way you had mine, scoundrel. You are the upstart, refusing to hold council with your king and myself this morning."

"So you must be the Lord from across the seas. Any quarrel with the King I will rectify myself. You, however, I owe no apology."

The stranger's face flushed an indignant shade of red. "Another insult!" The man pulled a glove off one hand and threw it to the ground. "I hope you recognize a challenge when you see one, thief."

A distinct gasp was heard from Mama, and she clenched his hand tighter.

"I see nothing stolen."

"Those!" The men directed his unsheathed sword at them. "I bought them and demand their return."

"Hmmm." Glen crossed his arms and an unamused smile crossed his face. "I do not claim to understand the ways of your country," he drawled, "and I admit this nation is my adopted one as well. But as far as these nation's laws are understood, people cannot be bought and sold, and those who have escaped such dreadful circumstances from elsewhere are allowed their freedom here. I will not be surprised if my King told you that very same message during your audience this morning."

"Ludicrous! I will not have my honor besmirched to this extent by some outsider woman." He leveled his blade once more.

Levi looked up at Glen. Woman?

"Glen's a gir-" he started, before Celia covered his mouth a hand. "C'mon," she said urgently, pulling at his and Mama's arms. "We gotta go inside."

Fang touched his shoulder and Levi turned, surprised at his appearance.

"Glen," he gave a quick bow though Glen did not glance his way.

"Mr. Fang, welcome of you to join us."

"Should we-?"

"No need. I shall honor your ways this once," Glen announced in a louder voice. He (she, Levi corrected himself, she) lowered his (her) blade. "My head of the guard here will be my second. I see you have yours. Name your terms."

What was happening? Levi turned to Mama and asked, "Are they gonna fight?"

"A duel." She slowly took their hands and led the two children toward the wall. He noticed that her soft face had turned into stone, the words barely escaping her mouth. Her grip on him was like iron and Levi twisted.

"Mama, it hurts!" He broke away from her hold and instantly, she locked onto him again.

"Please, Levi, behave," she said, her voice shaking. Levi hadn't realized but her whole body was trembling and not once did she break her gaze away from the pale stranger.

That was one thing Levi hated to be told, but any protest died in his throat. Already, Glen and Fang positioned themselves further in the clearing, the stranger and one of his men following suit.

"I claim first strike," said the stranger. "Our fight ends with one person living."

"Harsh terms." A corner of Glen's mouth twitched. "Are you sure?"

"Quite. Unless you fear for your life."

"I fear nothing except for what the Will allows."

The man threw down his other glove. Raising his free hand, he charged.

Immediately, Glen's arm blocked the blow; she twisted, her tailcoats flourishing behind her and struck a side blow. The stranger countered, metal ringing against metal as their blades met.

The two moved and feinted, turned and slashed, their blades a whirl of glinting steel and soft swoosh as air cut between them. Celia whispered, "What's happening? What's happening?"

"They're duelling." But it was more than two figures fighting. It was smooth coiled strength and skill unfurled before them. Moving faster than hawks: diving, angling, hovering and circling.

The stranger lunged to the left; Glen moved to avoid the blow, but then the stranger feinted and swept the blade across the other duelist's thigh. A crimson flash as drops hit the ground. Glen buckled, knees hitting the grass.

"Glen!" Levi screamed, breaking his mother's hold and running forward.

Glen glanced over one shoulder, eyes widening for a moment. The stranger took advantage and struck down toward her exposed neck; Glen's right forearm swept forward to block. The blade cut through meat and bone. She screamed, lifting her left sword arm and plunging into the man's exposed chest at the same time.

The point of the blade emerged from the center of his back and he stumbled backward. Glen's sword came free from her hand as the man tumbled and slammed against the ground. A squirt of red gushed from his chest; the hilt pushed out from the force of his collapse.

Letting her injured forearm remain by her side, Glen gave a grunt and pulled her sword free. She wiped it on the grass, watching as the blood spread through the man's chest.

Levi stopped from the scene less than three feet away; the final moves took less than thirty seconds. Levi felt his heart beat faster and faster in his chest. He stared at the man, whose bright violet eyes opened wide, lips parting and shutting like a fish on land. The stranger stared at Levi, his long white hair undone from its ponytail and spread in a halo around his head. The flapping mouth formed words. A foreign language, but a language Levi once knew from long ago.

"You are mine," said the stranger.

Echoes in Levi's head. Those words, he realized, he knew because they were the first language he had known from this land across the seas. From the depths of his memory, he whispered the foreigner's tongue upon his.

"Papa?" came the word.

The stranger's eyes were clouding. "...property..."

The man grew still. Tears suddenly pierced Levi's eyes. The child took two steps backward and held a hand to the side of his head as if the scene was pounding into his skull. He glanced up to see Glen, grim and unsmiling.

"Levi, are you well?"

Levi didn't reply, looked around wildly, unable to take in everything. His eyes roamed until he saw his mother collapsed by the wall. He stumbled in her direction, until Glen took him by the crook of the arm and half-dragged, half-carried him over to her.

"She fainted, but we will put her in bed and revive her," Celia said, as two female guards lifted and started carrying her toward the tower entrance. "I need to tend to my mistress now. Please, Your Grace, Young Master." The lady-in-waiting gave a small bow to Levi, unfurled her cane, and followed behind her colleagues as they disappeared into the Tower.

Levi felt a wetness on his cheek and noticed it was from blood on Glen's coat. "Sir, your arm."

"Indeed. I need this to be tended to."

Fang was already giving orders. The rest of the stranger's men were cornered by the guard and under Fang's direction, were soon disarmed.  Glen made her way inside, Levi trailing after.

As they walked, Levi kept glancing backward at the dead person in the clearing. No one made a move toward the corpse. His blood spread into the grass, staining it dark. The dead man's face was still turned in his direction, that last look of exasperation and shock following the pair out of the garden.

"I'm sure you must have many questions," Glen said, trying not to limp too badly. Her free hand was pressed against her arm to staunch the bleeding.

Levi faced forward again. His stomach felt jumpy and he pressed his arms around it as they walked. He wasn't sure if he was going to vomit, and sweat broke out over his forehead in distress. He didn't want to be sick in front of Glen, not now.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he burst forth with the first question that entered his head. "Glen, are you a girl?"

Glen stopped under the archway and stared at Levi blankly. His stomach jumped again; Levi swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to be sick. Did he say the wrong thing?

Suddenly, Glen threw back her head and laughed uproariously. The sound was so startling, the Baskervilles in the garden stopped their process escorting the captured men, until Fang barked, "Onwards!"

The leader's mirth soon subsided. "Tell me," Glen said, "what makes me a man?"

"Um, well," Levi felt heat rise to his face and pressed his arms across his middle more tightly. There were other things he wanted to ask. Not that this wasn't an important question either. He didn't even know why he thought of that first. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course." They moved to a stone bench. Glen angled her head. "Are you going to be sick?"

Levi shook his head vehemently.

"It's all right, Levi, if you must." Glen's face, the boy noticed, had become increasingly wan as the minutes passed. "I think I need a rest too. Let's go." They stood up again and the world swirled a bit when they did. Levi instinctively reached for Glen's arm, but pulled back when he felt the sticky cooling red over his fingers.

"Papa?"

Levi turned to his head to the side as the bitterness lurched up from his stomach and his throat and out his lips and all over the cold stones of the hallway.

"There, there."

"Glen! Young Master Levi!"

"To the study, quickly. Wine and water," Glen ordered to the attendants who came.

Soon, they were brought to his study. A pair of women were already laying out clean sheets on the chaise lounge and Levi was lowered into it. Fussy hands reached to undo his jacket and front vest, removing the dirtied clothing and wiping Glen's blood off with a damp warm towel. Opposite him, Glen was seated in a leather-bound chair, a small table being ready with medical supplies. An ottoman was brought forth and Glen propped her lame leg upon it.

A few minutes passed and the room stopped swimming before Levi's eyes. He sipped on a cup of plain water and watched Glen drain a full goblet of wine. She tossed the cup aside, gave a small grunt as she readjusted her injured right arm, laying it flat against the table as a healer cut away the fabric and began to clean the wound. She pulled a face, and instead of making further mention of Levi's sick, Glen revisited her previous questioning. For that, Levi was grateful. "So, you're surprised to find me a woman, Levi?"

Wetting his lips again with the water, Levi felt steadiness return to his limbs. "You dress like Fang and Doug and all the other boys," he said. "And you wear your hair in a way that no other girl does," but then he took that thought back, "wait, Celia's aunties do that too... well, your voice doesn't sound like a girl's, and um... well..."

"Poor observation skills." The healer moved to her other side to get the cut across the woman's thigh. Her medical shears cut through the expensive cloth and pulled back to expose Glen's dark-skinned limb. Another helped Glen out of her outer coat entirely and Levi sat up a bit, scratching his head. "You don't look like you got boobs."

Another bark of laughter. "You shouldn't stay for this part," Glen said, unbuttoning her vest. "It'll be messy. See to your mother."

Levi slipped down from the chaise-lounge and veered his eyes away from Glen as the attendants shooed him off. _Glen doesn't act like a girl,_ he thought. He imagined if he had seen Celia undressing, she would've screeched at him to get out with a swift throw of her cane (she had a surprisingly accurate gift for launching it, spear-like, in any one direction when angered enough.)

Back in the Tower, Levi found his mother lain in bed, already changed into her dressing gown. Celia pressed a heated scented cloth to her forehead. Mama turned her head and extended her hand to Levi.

"My darling."

Her face looked both relieved and sad, and suddenly Levi couldn't help but jump up onto the quilted bedding and bury himself in her arms. The image of the dying man flashed before him, that sharp contrast of the sticky red blood covering his pale face. Those violet eyes, and how the corners sloped downwards. Like his eyes.

"Mama, who was he?"

She hugged him tighter and didn't speak for a long time.

Celia finally said, "I remember his voice. He was the Master of the Big House, wasn't he?"

"Yes." The word was small and broken.

"I don't remember him," Levi said.

"No, I wish you never had to see him. Ever." Mama kissed Levi's forehead. "He is... was... a truly horrible person."

"Why'd he want us?"

She was running her hands through his loose hair and the sensation was quite comfortable. Levi snuggled into her warmth, smelled the soft scents of herbs that covered her skin from Celia's tending.

"Because he thought we were his toys." Another long silence. "Levi," she said suddenly, "remember what I've always taught you about people?"

"Um." There were many things Mama told him about people. Never talk to strangers. Remember how others treat their lessers. Always give someone a choice.

"That people aren't born nice?"

"Yes." She rubbed his back and pressed her nose into his neck, inhaling deeply. "People are not naturally kind nor evil. They are raised to desire what they want. When a man believes he deserves anything he desires, he becomes cruel." A kiss against his cheek. "That man... made me do horrible things for many years. I wasn't much older than you when he took me."

That tremor returned to her voice and Levi pressed against her warm arms, as if he squeezed enough she would stop.

"He said we were property. What does that mean?"

"He thought we were things." Another pause. "Promise me, Levi. You will never treat another human being like an object."

"Promise."

It was years before Levi understood the full story of his mother and his past and who exactly the stranger was.

It was also years before Levi realized the necessity of breaking his mother's promise.

He truly was his father's child.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**


	4. Realities

Levi isn't always a truthful man, but he is always a blunt one about the hard facts of this reality. He tries to space out these conversations at a reasonable rate to his wards, but timing, sadly, doesn't always work in a fortunate manner.

Today he promises Oswald and Lacie they would get a special tour of his collection. His cabinet of curiosities, he casually calls it, though the actual collection consisted of a dozen rooms in his private library rather than a mere closet.

"I don't travel much away from the castle," he says, "but I like to bring things that interest me here."

Over the years he had gathered many curios: stuffed animals from distant lands, feathers and horns and skeletons of creatures long vanished from this planet; rocks and uncut gems of varying grades; insects pinned to boards and put under glass; strange mummified remains of twisted human beings from all across the globe -- the misshapen, the grotesque, the demonized.

His cabinet is at the far wing of the castle, and Lacie runs ahead down the hallway in her excitement to get to the area of the estate where she was usually forbidden. Levi is trying to make a decent impression of a giraffe to Oswald -- he has a stuffed one in the foyer of the cabinet, but Oswald doesn't believe such a beast exists and Levi is enjoying the overly-serious faces the boy is making in response to his poor impressions -- before he notices Lacie staring at a stranger standing between two pillars against the wall. Soon, Oswald follows his eyes but because Levi keeps his pace casual and only raises one eyebrow questioningly, Oswald finds no cause for alarm.

As they near, a creaking voice pierces their ears and Levi briefly raises a second eyebrow upon recognizing the identity of this person before quickly lowering both again. Lacie is backing away from a stoop-backed old hag in dark robes who seems to have emerged from the stone itself. Everything about her is in shades of gray: from the slate-colored robes, to the ashen face, to the odd, silvery sheen of her eyes.

"Drop her quickly!" the old woman hissed. "Return her to the Darkness of the Abyss!"

"Lacie." Oswald extends a hand, sensing something wrong. The child has strong intuition, Levi notes. "Come with me. Quickly."

Lacie remains for a moment caught by the old woman's words, but soon shakes her head and whirls around. "Big brother!" she exclaims and grabs hold of his hand. Oswald wraps a protective arm around her slim shoulders, a move that he always does toward her, ever since the pair were brought into the household six months prior. A shielding gesture that Levi finds nostalgically sentimental.

He gives the old woman a rude flip of the hand as if shooing away a bothersome fly. "Old woman, they've just arrived at the Baskerville House. No need to frighten them so."

The old woman twists her head to the side, not in a way that is natural for a human being, but perfectly reasonable for an owl. "Is that boy to be your next bodily vessel?"

Levi touches a hand on Oswald's head in a warm pat. Subtly, he steers both children toward him and further from the hag. "Yes," he answers amicably. "Soon I will start transferring Raven to him. Then at last I can formally announce who the next Glen will be." Oswald pushes Lacie toward Levi's other side as he tousles the boy's hair. "After Raven will be Owl, then Dodo. I wonder how long it will take to transfer all five Chains?"

During the speech he is carefully guiding the group away from the wall, making sure he has ahold of each child. He knows better than to fear Jury and her presence and knew that she wouldn't do anything to physically harm the children herself. Nonetheless, Levi's false cheer grows thicker the more he talks, because she hasn't disappeared yet. "Thus, it will be quite some time before we drop her into the Abyss." He turns, a child in each hand. "In any case, ten or twenty years is only a drop in the bucket for you, so bear with it in the meantime."

The answer seems to satisfy the Baskerville advisor and as suddenly as she had entered, she seems to fade into the shadows. Levi gives her one flippant look over his shoulder and catches Lacie straining against his hand in order to peer further into the darkness where she exited.

"Glen, Glen. Who was that? Is she a Baskerville too?"

"Lacie," Oswald berated, "you must call him 'Master Glen'." Like a child who knows when to shy away from danger, he is staring stoically ahead and quickens his pace.

Levi scoffs, never really desiring to be a "Master" to anyone. "She is indeed a Baskerville but her role is sliiiighty different from ours." He explains that she is a watcher of sorts, especially for himself. He mentions the last bit while trying to repress a grimace.

Oswald looks up at him in surprise. "To keep an eye on you, Master...? Why is that?"

A careless toss of the shoulders. "That's just the way it is." Long ago he had learned to stifle the resentment with words. Part of him wants to add, "That is the way the Will dictates it to be," and in the rear of his consciousness, a figure stirs. Levi pushes back from that walled off part of his mind and goes on, "Even when I asked my predecessors, no one could tell me when the old crone first appeared, and no one ever knows where she is. All we know is that she's an advisor who seems to be everywhere at once."

Too much seriousness in this answer for even a genius nine-year-old and a precocious seven-year old. They look bewilderingly at him. He laughs. "Oh, don't think so hard!" He eyes them surely. "You're wasting time by asking 'Why?' when the answer is already there. Asking yourself, 'Now what shall I do about it?' is much more beneficial if you're going to use your brains. Either that, or convince yourself somehow that 'that's just the way it is.'"

"That's just the way it is," is the laziest and most cowardly of answers. There had been other explanations people gave him that make excuses for suffering, and even after over a decade, the words return to him.

_"Someday, when you have children, Levi, you'll understand...."_

They are silent for a time. "She said, 'Drop me.'" Lacie ventures. She tugs on his hand, "Hey, so am I gonna fall down somewhere?"

"Hmmm... " He exchanges glances with Oswald as he answers, though the other child is puzzled as to why he does so. "Maybe."

"Why? Why will I get dropped?"

" 'Cos you're a Child of Misfortune."

"I don't understand."

Levi tests the waters as he steers the conversation toward a darker direction. He makes a significant pause, and, like he could smell a leak of malicious intent into the air, Oswald moves away from his touch suddenly.

"Well, of course you wouldn't."

"Then, what'll happen if I fall in?"

"Ah, that answer's quite simple." He stops before the library doors. "You'll die."

The three of them don't move; Levi, waiting expectantly for a reaction, Lacie stunned by his abruptness, and Oswald, expressionless, calculating.

Finally, he proclaims, "I don't think that's funny, Master," at the same time Lacie snaps, "I don't want to die."

"That's fine." Levi shrugs as if he were the one rejecting them as opposed to the opposite.

Lacie has her tiny fists by her sides, now fuming at the possibility of being teased. "It is?"

"Certainly. You don't want to die now, and I don't want you to die either. Your death will be a long time coming, after all." Levi bends at the waist and raises a finger before Oswald. The boy's violet eyes contain a rumbling storm. "Oswald, I see you're upset, but your time will come as well. We all must resign to our end somehow."

Oswald crosses his arms against his chest, puffing out the small vested front.

"Are you upset at me, Oswald?"

"Well, I am!" Lacie stomps a tiny shoed foot. "Now you got Oswald mad too and made today a horrible day! See," another stomp, "Horrible!"

When any other adult upsets two small children and the adult is at fault, a normal reaction would be for the adult to try and erase the fact that they made a mistake in the first place. Levi does not think like a typical adult, and besides which, is fully confident that he hadn't made an error at all.

"I'm not going to tell you to forget about this conversation. When someone tells you things you don't like to hear, you are allowed to cry or be angry. Even at me. But also know that even when you do, there is so much you can do other than that. It is more helpful to examine what makes you upset and find a solution to resolve that negative emotion."

"You said a mean thing to Lacie! I'm mad about that."

"Take it back!" Lacie adds. "Take it back, Glen."

"I can't. Listen, darlings. Look here." Levi pins both their crossed wrists so their arms were folded in front of them. A sign of discipline he had done dozens of times for his disapproving mother and his predecessor. "What I said is hurtful. But it is also the truth. Lacie, I will apologize for being too blunt. I'm sorry it hurt to know. But I won't take back what I said."

"I don't understand why you like being mean!" she snaps. "C'mon, Oswald, I wanna go."

"Oswald, stay. Listen to your master."

Oswald is frozen but glares. "Master Glen, stop saying those kind of things."

"I won't. You will know what it means to value truth, Oswald. Lacie, I said I didn't want to hurt you. Can you forgive me?" He makes a contrite expression. "Do you want to go see the cabinet now?"

"No. I never want to see anything with you ever again!" She breaks her obedient position, sticks out her tongue, and sprints down the hall.

"Oswald, get your sister to your rooms and play there for a bit. I'll see you later." A command, so subtly attuned to the loyalty pledge that the boy doesn't even notice he is obeying it. He wants to run after Lacie after all, to be by her side when she is crying. Such a loving older brother.

A sigh rises from his chest. Levi wants to be a good person for them, but sometimes, that was so difficult when willful blindness is often mistaken for kindness.

The afternoon plans gone astray, he hesitates at the library doors. There is always research to be done and obscure texts deciphered about the riddles inside the Abyss. Instead, Levi decides against using his time productively and heads to the courtyard gardens.

The full-on heat of the afternoon sun bears down upon his uncovered head, and the air is filled with the buzz of cicadas. A small-boned, brown-skinned woman about his age tends to the rose bushes, welding a mighty pair of shears. On a nearby bench is a basket of dark-colored blooms and a dull golden cane. The woman works bare-handed and surprisingly her hands are unmarked despite the thorniness of the bushes. Strands of gray hair thread through the two dark plaits that are pinned back along her head. Despite her groundskeeper duties, he gave her a young maid to tend to certain needs. Celia always enjoys having her hair done.

"Stomping like elephants, as always." Celia lowers the shears. "How do you do, Your Grace?"

"Lady Celia."

She turns her face to his voice. "Messing with the children, are we?"

"How can you tell?"

"You always find me when you get the children mad."

"I don't know how Kahina did this."

"She didn't raise you. Your mother and I did. Or have you forgotten that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Send them to me once in awhile, Levi," Celia smiles. "If they are getting in the way of your research and experiments and such."

"Oh, they are an experiment in themselves."

"Raising children would be the hardest one of all, I'd wager."

He relates the incident with Jury and in response, she offers him a rose. "You need to understand young people are not the same as small adults. You are too harsh at times."

"Harsh? I never act out of violence. Every desire they ever wanted, every toy, every outing, every enjoyment I have been more than happy to provide. Especially considering where they came from. In fact, I wish I had someone like me as a playmate in my youth instead of-"

"A bossy know-it-all and two old soldiers?" Celia's mouth twitches. "Look, I don't know what you have planned for them, but you can't act so heartless about it."

Somehow, hearing those words from his oldest friend pricks. "How is knowing reality heartless?"

"Those children know enough of reality. Giving them a fantasy now and then won't damage anything."

Celia reaches up to his jacket front, tucks a rose into a button hole, and puts two more into his hands. "I made sure the thorns are snipped off the stems," she says, "so they won't scratch."

Levi shows up at Oswald's rooms to hear laughter and squeals behind the door. He touches a hand to the handle and pushes inward, announcing, "I have a little gift." As soon as he enters, however, silence drops into the room. Lacie, a stuffed black rabbit in hand, had been tackling its twin which Oswald holds between two fists. Their game freezes and both children somber up, drawing themselves close and sitting side-by-side on the floor.

"What's that?" the brother asks.

"They are called Roses of the Abyss. They are naturally black, but when you hold them to a light--" He demonstrates. A lacing of gold veins are spread throughout the flower's dark petals and they shine in reflection.

"Oh pretty!" Lacie accepts this gift and upon seeing her reaction, Oswald does the same.

"About earlier..." Levi sighs inwardly and relents. "I said I was hurtful, and I feel dreadful for acting that way. It's not kind, and sometimes, I forget what it means to be kind. I want to become better at that."

"So you're not going to say mean stuff about me again?" Lacie asks. She is slowly pulling the petals off her rose and sticking them into her rabbit's red coat.

"When I talk about your duties, tell me when you are upset and.... I will try to make it sound not as upsetting." Not quite a full compromise, but enough of one.

Oswald is slowly turning the bloom in one hand. "I hate the old woman," he declares. "I never want her near Lacie again."

"We can both keep that hag away, Oswald. You are my manservant, right? That'll be your job. Whaddaya say?"

A solemn nod. "Keep her away and I won't be mad."

"One more trick with this rose." He plucks a fallen petal from the rabbit's overflowing coat and twists it. Sparks arise from the petal and he tosses it into the air. The flower petal erupts into a tiny flash of light and a pop!

The children gasp. "What was that?" Lacie asks. Apparently, her forgiveness is already granted.

"These roses gather energy from the Abyss itself and become highly combustible. When you have dried rose petals and mix them with some special powders, you can make fireworks. Have you ever seen fireworks?" They shake their heads and Levi grins. "I have a small laboratory connected to the cabinet. Let's build a rocket after we look through the collection."

"I suppose... we can go see the giraffe..." Oswald relents.

"Perfection!" Levi lifts each child under an arm -- they are both quite small -- which causes Lacie to squeal in joy and Oswald to flail, alarmed.

"Time to ride the express carriage. Next stop: fireworks and giraffes!" He made a neighing sound and started galloping out of the playroom and toward the west wing. Lacie's joyous laughter brings a new sense of lightness to his heart.

That afternoon is spent looking at strange odd things, dead things, rare things. Levi explains each of them coming from around the world. Aftereffects of the previous conversation linger between Oswald and him. Oswald eyes Levi in disbelief at some of the explanations ("pigs don't fly" he sniffs at the winged skeletons floating across the ceiling of one room). Occasionally, he directs Lacie to look at the displays by his side, slowly reading the placards out himself instead of having Levi explain for them.

Lacie, however, acts like the encounter with Jury never happened at all and pulls at Levi's sleeve. "Master Glen, what's this?"

While Oswald is occupied exploring a particularly odd-looking stuffed creature called a platypus, Levi takes Lacie off to the side. Oswald's wariness seems more natural to him than Lacie's instant forgiveness. "When the time does come, darling, remember," and he gives a small smile. "You always have a choice not to be dropped."

Her red eyes light up and a genuine smile tugs at the corners of her lips. She throws her arms around Levi and he decides that Celia is right--a little fantasy now and again never hurts.

* * *

 

_Clang-clang-clang..._

Alarm bells tolled a deep noise that echoed throughout the towering dark walls. For the first time, Levi looked around and a deep sense of insecurity rose in his chest. His courage faltered -- what if the plan failed? Did he make the correct calculations? Now he was going to get caught, and, though part of his mind screamed that it was completely illogical for Glen to inflict any sort of terrible punishment toward her successor, the fear remained.

Childhood nightmares rooted in his first memories -- of a midnight run, of vicious dogs barking at his heels, of white-haired guardsmen and the roar of fire arrows thunking at his feet -- somehow came into mind, triggered by a latent sense of panic.

"Please," he begged. "We have to go."

"To where?" Mama remained in shadow, her pale hand pressed against the soldiers' barracks entrance. Usually, this corridor was filled with Baskerville men and women on patrol, but tonight, all of the patrol barracks were empty. The scent of smoke filled the air, carried over from the burning estate they were both escaping. At least, one person was escaping, and the other firmly staying put.

By this time, his personal guard would've subdued him, if they were able to subdue. In the distance, Levi heard the faint groans of his men pinned by the arms against the trees of the arboretum where he had deliberately lead them through. The tall boughs were the perfect height for many, and just about the same height as the wall-mounted crossbows' lowest angle. Some net rigging, a few skillfully-placed trip wires and instantly, some of Baskerville's best men were now helpless with three-foot long shafts pinning them down like bugs on a pasteboard.

Levi, at eight, was remarkably clever for his age.

And remarkably heartless as well.

The bushes behind them rustled and Levi drew his longsword. A wiry-haired head poked through.

"Levi, if you dare chop my head off you will regret it." Celia kicked the last of the under brush off of her skirts and shouldered a side-bag. "Lady Leah, please come before Glen notices you've gone too."

"I'm not going anywhere unless my son wishes to follow."

"Celia." Levi bit his lower lip, a pang of guilt holding him back. He knew he was going to leave her behind since he figured that Celia wouldn't want to leave, and perhaps, one day she'd forgive him for running away. Celia always liked it here and she was never in any danger. But perhaps, if she knew the truth...

"Glen is plotting to kill my mother," he told her. He turned to Mama. "I know it's hard to understand, but-"

"Levi." A look of horror crossed Mama's face. "Did she tell you? She promised-"

"What are you talking about?" Celia cried.

"Celia, remember that gate I showed you? After my the ceremony for the Raven?"

"The Gate to the Abyss?" Her brow furrowed. "We're maintaining the balance between their world and ours."

"You don't know what that really means. It means... we sacrifice people."

Her voice went small. "Sacrifice?"

"Like monsters! At the Big House." A low shudder through his soul. He rarely mentioned the place where they all came from, and with time and distance, Levi learned through the cold knowledge of books and stories about the horrors of the man who had sired him. The white-haired people believed in blood sacrifice, and breeding good, obedient stock from the purest of souls. Only pure souls bred from pure children were worthy of sacrifice. Certain girls were selected and kept like livestock to bear purebloods for the altar. High-born pureblood men were honored by keeping stables of women under their command.

His mother, bearing albino coloring and her god-touched red eyes, was the most prized of all.

"Not exactly. There's some sort of... pit or hole... inside the Abyss. A place of Darkness." Levi closed his eyes, recalling the warning the Raven had given him when the contract was made.

One year before, the Raven had given him an offer during their ceremony. Levi had raised the chalice to his lips, the Raven's blood sludgy as pitch. He had tipped the cup and let the viscous material slip into his mouth.

"We are equals, us Chains and you, Glen-child," the Raven had told him. "Each Chain offers its master one boon at this time. Mine is the gift of self-knowledge." The Raven's many-throated voice echoed inside his skull. "Do you wish to accept?"

Levi had thought carefully. The Raven's blood heated his stomach, seemed to radiate energy throughout his body. His hands shook, as he placed the cup back on the platter. "Can I ask later?" he thought to the Raven.

"No. Now, at the start of our connection, and I am able to part with a piece of myself to show you. Never again. But, know this: you ask for this boon, then you must pay the consequences of this knowledge."

Levi had said yes, he had to know -- if he were to be leader one day, why not, and Glen seemed to hedge around certain questions -- and he translated the burst of visions the Raven had sent through his mind into human language to Celia. "Every generation, the Raven told me a Child of Misfortune is born. And they have to be sacrificed to the Abyss in order to keep its balance between the spiritual realm and our material world." He glanced at his mother. "She is our Child of Misfortune."

The news had stunned him at first, the same shock Celia now wore. "Every generation?" Levi had exclaimed privately to his Chain. "But Mama is--"

"Your mother is nineteen years old, young human. I do not understand years well, but she was a mere child when she had you." The Raven had blinked its saucer eyes. "The next Glen is always one close to the Child of Misfortune, and the presence of the next Glen's distortion is the root of the Child's pain. She lived a life full of grief and horror and you were born out of that horror."

_It's my fault._

In the darkening forest, Celia bit her lower lip. "Lady Leah," she whispered, "did you know what Glen wanted?"

"Yes." Mama folded her hands. "Levi, please, don't anger Glen further."

"Don't you understand? That woman is a liar. She promised us freedom when all along, she had only been grooming for me to take over and... and..." Levi squeezed his eyes shut. "She can't make me do it, Mama!"

"How interesting."

The three of them turned to the new voice, dry and brittle as winter twigs. From the shadows, a fourth figure. Long, draping robes, a corpse stare. Levi never saw her before in his life and instantly, raised his sword arm and shielded his mother.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"No one." The ancient figure seemed older than the towering trees of the estate, older than the stones at their feet. She gave a sideways grin. "I am only an observer."

"Are you a Baskerville?" Celia asked. The old woman ignored her.

"Kahina is a fool," the crone stated. Her spindly hands tugged at each other, rubbing the greyish skin. "Oh, I thought she would listen, but look at this happening now."

"Madam," Levi said, "if you mean us no harm, let us pass and don't tell Glen where we had gone."

"How far do you think you will get on foot? The entire city will be watching for you." The old woman paused. "You are much more fiery than we thought. This amuses us."

Her off-hand remarks started to grate upon Levi. He looked toward his left palm, where his connection to the Raven resided. One quick summons and they could be half a world away.

Inside his head, the Raven bristled its feathers. "Foolish human," it muttered, "pull on my Chain and the other four will sense it. You cannot use me for your futile task."

"But you're mine now, Raven," he said internally. In the past year since his ceremony, Levi believed he knew everything about his black-feathered Chain. This was the first time the Raven actively refused a request. "Fly us away and cover your tracks. I command it."

"Command? You? Me? I am not a tool to be wielded." Levi felt the force of a disembodied eye upon him, though he could not physically see the Raven's judgmental gaze.

"I'm your Master!" he said aloud, in a voice so harsh his mother startled. "Levi," she said, "what is the Raven saying?"

A dark laughter from within. "You scorn others who are masters over you yet demand me to serve. A weak-minded, hypocritical boy."

With that, the Raven said no more.

"Raven," Levi hissed viciously. He raised his left hand, clenched it into a fist. "Raven, obey me!"

"Levi..." Celia touched his arm and Levi nearly recoiled from her in frustration.

Suddenly, a sharp pain, as if a dagger had plunged through his palm, radiated from his hand. Levi clenched his jaw, his knees buckling in anguish, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. "Raven, what are you-?"

Shouts in the distance. Levi sheathed his sword, pressed his hand to his chest. Two escape routes failed -- soon, the Baskerville guard will reach the other wall and find them. The Raven refused to cooperate. Only one more option left.

"All right, Mama," he whispered, "I'll go back."

"Yes, sweetheart. You got upset and need rest." Mama's eyes were full of pity. They shone a deep wine color in the dusky light. "Let me tuck you into bed and I can explain everything..."

"I set the main hall on fire as a distraction. I'm sure Glen will be angry." Levi let his eyes close, refusing to look at two of the people he cared about most and their refusal to see the reality. Yes, he had one final plan. He had a whole year to plot this out, every possibility, even the ones he didn't like at all.

"I'm sure she will forgive you if you explain what got you so mad. Come here, come here," She gathered her son in her arms; his height barely reached under her arm. Levi hugged her waist, buried his white head into the folds of her dress. Celia took her other side and slowly, the three of them traveled toward the castle.

Behind him, there was the soft gush of air and he looked over one shoulder.

The old woman was gone.

Levi reached his rooms. Doug was waiting there and gave the child a once-over, removing the sword and the set of knives he had stolen from the kitchen, before leaving to report back to Glen about Levi's return. His mother removed his travelling clothes and dressed him in a soft muslin nightgown. Celia went to the washroom to pull water for a bath, and she said she'd put in extra suds like he wanted.

"Can I have a glass of milk?" he asked, extra sweetly.

"Certainly, darling." Mama went to the pull cord in the other room to ring for the maid when Levi grabbed his sack of supplies and slipped out the door.

His bare feet slapped against the plush carpeting and darted between the gaps in the rugs. He had the way planned out in his head. Turning corners, running up flights, circling toward the center of the castle, where he had his ceremony one year ago. The coronation room, where the Gate to the Abyss stood.

Once he reached the coronation room, he found the place empty. In the center, decorated with a plush flowing red carpet was an immense flight of stairs that seemed to rise toward the sky. The Gate.

Levi ran up the steps as fast as he could, knowing that soon some guard would see him. His small feet caught on a snag in the carpet and he tripped a dozen steps up. He fell on his chin; the force made him bite his cheek. The metallic taste of blood pooled on his tongue. He spit and gave a grunt, then started climbing the steps on all fours like a racing beast. He had to get to the Abyss. Once there, he can escape to anywhere the Abyss led to. Outside the castle. Maybe the other side of the realm--he had no idea how far the Abyss expanded parallel to the real world.

That was his final decision -- since Mama did not want to leave, he'd run alone and save them both from their fate...

So. Many. Steps. His lungs started to hurt from the exertion, but adrenaline at the thought of being caught and his third plan failing urged him on. The tall, dark gate loomed before him. The steps grew shorter.

A cool, dry smell filled his nose. Dark plumes of mist-like substance flowed out from the portal. Levi reached the landing to the Gate, collapsed panting on the carpet. Every part of him was tense but sore from the stress and the running. A different sort of ache beat in his chest, knowing he never got a chance to say a proper goodbye to Mama and Celia.

 _They'll understand,_ he rationalized. _Because I can't grow up and do...that.... Glen can't make me._

Levi had never seen anything go into or out of the Gate. He knew, though, that in times of crisis, Glen was allowed to enter the Abyss. He was supposed to be the next Glen; he'd have that ability to enter too.

The darkness seemed more than a lack of light, but a lack of life's very essence. Levi swallowed hard and extended a hand. He gingerly dipped his fingers into the Gate. The appendages slipped in and seemed to vanish into the inky mass. He felt cooling mist coat his flesh. Levi yanked his hand out again. Wisps of dark mist swirled along his skin, but he appeared unchanged.

"All right," he said, mustering up another measure of courage. "Goodbye everyone. Goodbye, Celia. Mama." Inhaling a large breath, he entered the Gate.

The world became a slice of night that folded over him. Blindness eclipsed his vision and for a moment, he wondered if this was how Celia sensed the world. As soon as that thought came, a small dot bobbed before him. A pearl of light, slightly pulsating.  It resembled the balls of light he had seen years ago at the Big House, the ones that sank into his skin and marked him as special...

The pearls multiplied, varied in size and intensity. They pinned the darkness down, flowed as if riding a hidden tide of dark water, swirling about him.

The lights. Levi could always trust the lights.

He moved deeper into the Abyss, following the path the lights took. Around him, the realm slowly took in more light and color, as if dawn was spreading across this alternate dimension.

The ground Levi stepped on glowed with pale iridescent, bursting into pastels with each footstep. A low hum, like the Abyss was vibrating, hit his ears.

There were no scents here in the Abyss, and the lack of smell was the most startling thing. Everything seemed pure -- later on, he would recognize this as ozone when he learned all about chemicals, but then his child's perspective only thought, "someone scrubbed the air real well," instead.

"Now to find a way out," Levi said. He needed to hear his own voice; it helped chase away the worries gnawing at his mind, and the vision of his mother's anguished face.

The lights shifted and swirled at the noise. One light, slightly tinted blue that reminded him of a marble, circled his head and then bounced along before him. A strange intelligence encompassed this ethereal being, and Levi extended a hand toward the blue light.

"Can you... understand me?"

The blue light twinkled brighter.

"I need to find an exit. Can you show me?"

The light dimmed, then grew to that same level of brightness again. A light-nod. The blue orb whirled about his head again, and bounced off in a direction to his left. Other beads of light flowed in its wake with surprising swiftness.

Levi pursued the purposeful lights through swirling pastels and flowing dappled shades of luminescence.  

Time passed, though Levi was unsure for how long; the blue light was speedy, but never tried to escape his line of sight. About him, the colors grew more intense and solid as if traces of matter were being filtered through the varying hues.

_"....h...u...l...l...o....."_

He stopped and the blue light continued beyond into the crystalline horizon. Did he just hear something?

"Hullo?" he called.

_"....h...u...l...l...o..."_

A echo? Levi frowned. But he hadn't spoken since he first entered this realm. He opened his mouth.

"Is that someone?"

_"...o...n...e...."_

He was mistaken. Levi sighed and shaded his eyes with one hand, trying to find the blue orb.

_"...l..e...v..i..."_

He gasped. "Who's there?"

Maybe it was the other Baskervilles looking for him. Could they have entered the Gate too? He bit his lower lip, trying to decide where to call out again or if it only meant he would be captured.

_"....f...r..i..e...n...d..."_

"Friend?"

A cold, sharp tug at his ankle. Levi lifted his foot and found it stuck. He saw the glistening black chain wrapped about his right leg.

"No."

Snap! Another set of chains snagged his left arm; a third whipped through the air and caught his other leg.

"NO!" Levi struggled and gasped in pain. "Help! No, I don't wanna, I don't!"

The last chain locked around his right arm and all four bodily dragged him through the air.

"Help me!" he screamed, but this time, no one answered.

The landscape of the Abyss zoomed backwards as he fought and yelled. Like a fish being yanked by a lure, the four Chains pulled him out from the Gate and he collapsed, breathless and bruised, upon the landing inside the castle.

Along the walls, he caught the outlines of the four remaining black-winged Chains, their shadows connecting and melding into the person before him.

"Master Glen."

His left palm suddenly ached again.

"Get up."

Without thinking, Levi stood as the black chains untangled themselves from his limbs and reformed as their beast selves. Glen's face was expressionless. Her rust orange coat billowed with the movement of all four Chains about her. Gryphon, her favorite, bowed his head and snapped its jaws before Levi's face in a smirk before settling at her side. Owl landed on her shoulder, shrinking to the side of a sparrow, and Dodo waddled, withdrawing its chain and squatting by her feet. The last Chain, looming above them all, emitted a red-gold plume of smoke from its whiskered nostrils. The Jabberwock's claws scratched against the ground.

Glen had both hands wrapped around her longstaff, holding it before her. She tapped the staff to the ground and instantly, all four Chains vanished.

The coronation room was only occupied by him, Glen, his mother, and, standing by the railing in the furthest corner of the landing, that strange old woman from the forest. Levi remembered reading stories about other nation's gods, and one of them treasured the force of three women. The way they stood very much resembled the trifecta he had seem illustrated in books about that foreign faith: the armed maiden, the wise mother, and the frightening crone.

"You disobeyed." Glen's voice remained flat. "You set fire to the castle. You destroyed the arboretum. You hurt my soldiers. You do not deserve the Chain you wield. A lesser being would be killed for his sins."

Mama didn't make a sound, which surprised Levi. He expected to find her weeping at the very least, but her own face, drained of color, stared blankly at him.

Silence. He felt this was supposed to be the time to explain himself.

"You lied," he said to Glen. "You promised to protect us, but you lied."

"Who calls me a liar?"

"The Raven."

A scoff. "I know the Raven as well as that creature knows my blood. The Raven sees my heart." A pause. "The Raven told you the knowledge you crave."

"Yes." Levi wanted to say a cutting addition, but his lips went rigid after the answer escaped.

"I cannot bear judgment upon you for acting this way. We all accept our duties differently." Glen sighed and her body relaxed a fraction. She faced his mother. "Lady Leah, the decision is yours."

"You know what I said." Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

"And you stand by your vow?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Young Levi, listen well." Glen's eyes bore down on him. His left hand began to ache and with that ache the world grew fuzzy at the edges. Glen's voice echoed in his ears, but somehow, these words became imprinted into his very bones.

"You will obey your mother's wishes. Lady Leah, tell your son what you truly desire."

"Levi." She knelt down before him, dipped her head. "You will be taught the Baskerville ways as Glen's manservant and successor. You will inherit the rest of her Chains. When you are grown and all five Chains are yours, you will destroy me in the darkest part of the Abyss and continue as the next Glen."

 _No_ , Levi wanted to scream that with every fragment of his being. He didn't want any of this. He didn't want power. He didn't want to be Glen. He didn't want to be his mother's killer.

"Do you understand, my love?"

"Yes, Mother," came the mechanical response. A tear escaped. His one act of protest.

She brushed it away, cradled his head in her bosom. "Someday, when you have children, Levi," she murmured, "you'll understand what a parent is willing to sacrifice for their child."

* * *

 

Levi watches Lacie's tiny hands drop the black rose petals into the bronze bowl. Their exploration of the collection a success, Levi helps them prepare some rockets for tonight. Come nightfall, he will take them to the front lawn and let them ignite their prizes. The colors of the fireworks in the night will pale in comparison to the colors he sees in the Abyss, but each are still years away from experiencing that pleasure themselves.

"Careful," Oswald warns, peering over her shoulder. "They're very com-bust-ee-ble."

"I know!" she says. She drops a few more in and picks up the pestle.

"Whoa there." Levi snags the pestle away. "No need to grind them." He offers a small array of colored jars of powdered elemental minerals. "Pick your colors and drop them in."

As Oswald monitors her progress, Levi smiles. The boy will make a great teacher. And Lacie, a daring scientist. How odd, he muses, to think of who these small people will become. If all goes well, that is.

Behind him, a wizened gray hand touches his shoulder.

A hiss, dry as death, hits his ear. "You still have a part to play, Levi. You understand?"

"Of course. Silly old woman, what other choice do I have?"


	5. The First Fairy Tale: The Warrior and the Queen

For my mother

* * *

 

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where the sun had scorched the earth into nothing but sand, there lived a people known as Wanderers. They were a people who valued freedom over all else, who obeyed nothing but the Will of the World and praised its mysterious ways.

During the day, they slept and at night, they travelled, guided by the stars. The Wanderers believed the Will of the World blessed them with the strongest camels, the sharpest eyes, and hearts stout enough to love their land of dunes.

Among this clan lived a young warrior and her sister. They were strange among their people: the warrior had hair the evil color of the sun, and the sister had eyes that which burned red with sin.  The sister was a seer, and though their fellow Wanderers half-believed her to be a demon, they also half-believed the stars whispered in her ear (for demons lived beyond the realms of men, closer to the heavens than to the earth). The warrior had to prove herself twice as strong, ride twice as long, and fight twice as mightily than any other kinswoman to earn respect for her feared sister. Respect she did earn among her kinswomen, but at a bitter cost.

One night, the sister dreamt of a world far away covered in perpetual winter. In her dream was a beautiful queen with hair the color of bone and eyes which burned as red as hers. "O stars, help me, help me," said the queen. "I am the bride of a cruel king, and I opened the forbidden door, and now he will slay my child!"

Upon waking, the sister told the warrior about this country. "One day, when I am gone, you will meet a white queen, and it will be your duty to rescue her and her child."

The warrior dismissed her. She believed in the Will of the World, not in mortal dreams, even those of her beloved sibling. "Why would you be gone? And what of this land covered in ice? These things have nothing to do with the Will of the World, so cast these dreams aside!"

Soon, ill tidings befell these Wanderers. The waters of their oasis had turned to poison, and their men and children thirsted. Their camels soon grew thin and sickly.  Riders sent out to find distant kinswomen for help vanished in a whirlwind of sand that lasted seven days and seven nights.  Demanding a solution, the warrior and her sister prayed for a sign to help save their people. As the dawn broke over the dunes, the stars themselves fell from the sky and sank into their skin.

The clan elders proclaimed: "The Will of the World has spoken. Be gone to the North, and only then will we be cured."

"No," said the warrior, "I will not allow this."

"We are star-judged," said the sister. "I have dreamt of this night for a thousand nights. But remember, dear sister, we fear nothing but what the Will allows."

The warrior woman and her sister travelled far to another land unlike the dunes they had left. Here, the sun was kinder, making the earth sweet and docile. In exchange, however, the people were weak in heart like sheep, and the Will of the World existed as a terrible force in the face of their simplicity.

Unlike the warrior and her sister, shaped to be bold and dark like the shadows that withstood the sun, these people were as pale as camel's milk. These milk-skinned people feared them for their difference, yet the ruler of this realm welcomed them. He said the stars foretold their arrival and it was the yellow-haired warrior's destiny to take over his duties as ruler after he died.

Thus was the Will of the World, and the warrior and her sister praised its mysterious ways.

Many years passed, and again, ill tidings befell the warrior. On the eve of her coronation as the new ruler, the stars sang to the sister that she belonged with them. She came to the warrior and said, "Tonight I must take my place among the stars."

"No," said the warrior, "I will not allow this."

"We are star-judged," said the sister. "I have dreamt of this night for a thousand nights. But remember, dear sister, the queen and your duty to her."

So it came to pass that the red-eyed sister bound herself to the stars. Some say that night demons lifted her away into the sky, never to return. Others say that the earth swallowed her whole, chewed her up, and scattered her bones among the dunes of her homeland.

The warrior despaired but that was the Will of the World, and the Will had also granted her ruleship of this land. Such were its mysterious ways.

* * *

 

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where endless snow covers the realm, and where its rulers act as cold as the land they lived in, there lived a little girl. Her hair was as white as bone, and her eyes were as red as blood. In her country, there ruled a king known as Bluebeard, for the hair of his chin was the color of frost and frightened all who saw it.

Bluebeard's castle stood upon an icy cliff overlooking an unforgiving sea. Snow frosted the skinny towers. Icicles hung from the ceilings. Peregrine falcons nested on the ramparts and swooped down to pluck out the eyes of any wayward sailor whose misfortune was to shipwreck upon that craggy shore.

Villagers of Bluebeard's kingdom lived in fear of this rule, though one practice they always permitted. Every few years, the mighty ruler left his castle and roamed across the kingdom to select new bride to bear him a son. The weddings of Bluebeard always appeared to be the most jovial. The bride was bedecked in gold and jewels, swathed in the warmest furs. Minstrels praised her in their songs; knights battled in her honor. A feast lasting a hundred hours fed Bluebeard and his men in celebration. Yet after the new bride was sent to Bluebeard's castle, she never appeared again.

One year, Bluebeard arrived at the home of this young girl bearing hair as white as bone and eyes as red as blood. He looked into her face and he was consumed by all desire for her.

Bluebeard presented her with gold and jewels and furs of sable. "See all of the riches I bestow to you? Come away with me to my castle," said he. "Honor me as my bride and bear me a son."

But the girl knew better; she had seen what happened to Bluebeard's other wives. "No," said the girl, "I will not allow this."

Bluebeard left her home again and returned a second time with musicians and jugglers and poets. "See all of the joys I bestow to you? Come away with me to my castle," said he, "Honor me as my bride and bear me a son."

"No," said the girl, "I will not allow this."

Bluebeard left her home again and returned a third time with daggers and cloaked men. "See all the power I command? Come away with me to my castle," said he. "Honor me as my bride and bear me a son."

Fearfully, the girl left and became his bride. Bluebeard rewarded her with a crown of frost the color of the hair upon his chin and proclaimed him his queen. At her wedding, the minstrels praised her beauty and her clear sweet voice. She was lavished upon with links of gold and capes of rich sea lion fur. The table weighed down with roasted beasts and fowl of all types, and the wine flowed freely. Yet underneath her veil, the girl wept.

After the wedding, she was carried off to Bluebeard's castle. There, the queen wore only gold and jewels and furs. She danced in a room among musicians and jugglers and poets. But in the corners lurked men with daggers and the queen wondered where all of Bluebeard's other wives and children have gone.

Soon, the queen bore a son. The child gave her small comfort in this cold, lonely castle. Often, the queen took her child up to the ramparts to watch the sea away from the cruel touch of her husband.

The stars, however, gave her a vision. She dreamt of a place where the sun made the earth kinder and sweeter, and of a ruler with sad, gentle eyes who would take her away to this land. She told her babe, "I have dreamt of this land and of this woman every night for a thousand nights. But where can they be?"

One day, Bluebeard came to her and said, "My queen, I will go travel across the kingdom and find myself another wife. While I am gone, I will grant you the keys to the castle. You may enter any room except the room which uses this key." He held up an old iron key. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord," said the queen, and Bluebeard left to travel the land and find another wife.

While he was gone, the queen used the keys to open all the rooms in the castle to find Bluebeard's other wives. Each room was filled with cold dead things: mounted wolves heads, stuffed bears, glass-eyed caribou. Yet she found no other bride of Bluebeard's.

Finally, she came to the lowest level of the castle and found a giant door. None of the keys Bluebeard gave her opened this door except one. She held the iron key in her hand and remembered Bluebeard's warning. Still, she opened the door and looked inside.

There she found all of Bluebeard's wives. Their bodies were piled in the room. Blood dried black covered the walls, the floors, the ceiling. In the corner was a cage filled with iron hooks and from the hooks hung the bodies of Bluebeard's sons.

The queen screamed. She dropped the iron key, ran to her room, and locked herself inside.

There, she clutched her son and prayed to the stars. "O stars, help me, help me," said the queen. "I am the bride of a cruel king, and I opened the forbidden door, and now he will slay my child!"

Far away, in a distant land, the warrior, now known to all as Glen, woke with tears in her eyes. Every night for the past thousand nights she had dreamt the same dream her sister had of the white queen. The queen's cries touched her heart, and she readied her ships and her men.

In Bluebeard's castle, months passed and the queen despaired. Soon, her husband will return with a new wife and then slaughter her and her child. Ever day she stood on the ramparts of the castle, child held to her breast, and thought to leap from the highest tower to their deaths. Better to die at her own hands than in Bluebeard's dungeon.

Then, one day, she spotted a ship. The ship docked at Bluebeard's castle, and the warrior emerged. The queen saw her and recognized those sad, gentle eyes from her dreams and was instantly smitten by her.

"O queen," said Glen, "I have dreamt of your tears every night for the past thousand nights. Please come away to my castle with your son and honor me as my bride."

"Yes," said the queen, "I will allow this." She then swore her love and loyalty to Glen, and Glen swore her love and duty to her Queen.

Thus Glen, the Queen, and her child lived as happily as they could until the end of their days.

All of this was possible because of the Will of the World. Let us praise its mysterious ways.

 


	6. Ideals

"Glen, Glen, listen!"

Levi hears Lacie approach long before he hears her voice; she has a way of crashing into a room whenever she is excited, especially about an innovative discovery. Usually, Oswald is the first to announce a new finding during their laboratory lessons, and Levi suspects that Lacie harbors a rivalry against her older brother concerning who is truly the most observant.

"Hmmm?" He steps out of the memorial alcove and pushes the curtain behind him. He arches an eyebrow at finding her racing down the stairs to the Gate at the far end of the coronation room. The royal space has remained the same since he was a child, but since those days he keeps a stronger sentry at front. Unless, of course, the intruder didn't use the Gate as an entranceway but an exit....

"What are you doing here?"

The twelve year-old girl stops her race at the bottom-most steps, lifting her lavender skirts higher than is decent, exposing her scraped knees and the edges of her pale cream bloomers.

"I was exploring and I found out something amazing-"

"Lacie," Levi crosses his arms. "What have I told you about entering the Abyss without permission?"

"Glen, this is an important _scientific_ revelation!" Lacie huffed and sent the fringe of black hair fluttering over her pale brow.

"Hold on one moment." Levi ducks behind the blood red curtain again and adjusts the black draping over a portrait therein, masking a regal-looking face. He isn't a religious person, and traditionally, incense and candles are kept perpetually burning in honor of his predecessors. Nevertheless, he finds this place an inspiring place to write. He picks up the sheaf of parchment papers, quills, and ink, and he folds them into a neat bundle.

Leaving the memorial alcove, he takes her hand and says, "Tell me all about your findings over a nice cup of tea in the library, eh?"

Lacie can't wait for the afternoon tea service and instead, chatters as they make their way to his rooms. "There's someone at the bottom of the Abyss, much much deeper than anyone else's ever gone. I couldn't see who it was, and that someone didn't answer me, but there was really someone there!"

"Really now?" A vague memory resurfaces in Levi's mind. The echo of a voice, the strange glow behind the Abyss horizon...

"Show me exactly where you went."

There is no map of the Abyss, but there is something similar to one in his laboratory. A huge chart, marked by a series of waves, cover a sheet of vellum large enough to cover an entire wall. Certain points are pinned with bright red and blue dots. Other spaces are completely blank, and one particular area is an inky mass.

On a nearby table is a set of golden instruments from a range of sciences, all used for measurement: compasses and circumnavigators, astrolabes and thermometers, skinny hourglasses and elaborate chronometers. Lacie and Oswald know how to use them, and during their expeditions, each of these instruments have gauged some aspect of that realm. Though air, light, and even time are not steady constants in the Abyss, Levi would rather record all of these fluctuations than leave any factor dismissed as being too erratic.

By the time tea is ready, she had related her latest venture into the Abyss three times, each filled in more details than the last.

"Good investigation. Let's note these observations in our books, shall we?"

Together, Levi draws out the details of her journey, but Lacie is only half paying attention at this point. Unlike her brother, who is keen to list the precise details of any of his voyages into the Abyss, once told, Lacie seems restless, even a little bored at the table.

"Lacie, you made some very important findings, but they'll be useless unless we can record all of our data." Levi lowers his quill pen. "What's wrong?"

"I told the person I'd be back." Lacie kicks the legs of her chair. "They seemed very lonely."

"So you believe this is a person?"

"Well, they felt very lonely." Lacie sticks her tongue out in thought. Levi leans his elbows on the table and smiles. She looks adorable when she concentrates and he can't help but poke the tip her of nose with an index finger. At his touch, she scrunches up her nose and darts back into her seat.

"How about you write up a report, and I'll look at it later?"

"Can I go back after?"

He laughs. "You can't keep diving into the Abyss by yourself."

"Why not?"

"What if you fall into the Darkness?" He points to the inky mass on the chart.

Her face instantly falls. He had explained that anomaly during the first lesson he taught her and Oswald about the Abyss. "This is the most dangerous part," he had warned. "Part of our duty is to monitor this area and keep it from growing." Seeing that black mark seems to remind Lacie of that conversation she had years ago with Jury, and Levi exploits this fact. Seeing a cloud cover eyes that had previously been so proud and inquisitive saddens him, however.

"I only want you to be safe." He reaches across the table and lifts her chin. "We can explore all we like, using precaution as our guide."

She wiggles away from his touch. "I am cautious," she says in a small voice. Her gaze travels to the bundle on the desk. "You making your stories again?"

Sensing that she needs a distraction from her own inner darkness, Levi opens up the portfolio containing his parchment papers. "You caught me in the middle of my newest one."

"Ooo," she leans toward the papers. "Can I hear?"

"It's a little rough, but I'd like your opinion." He scoots his chair around the corner so they sit side-by-side. "It's called 'The Warrior and the Queen.'" He exaggeratedly clears his throat, then plunges into the latest installment of his chronicles.

"Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where the sun had scorched the earth into nothing but sand, there lived a people known as Wanderers. They were a people who valued freedom over all else, who obeyed nothing but the Will of the World and praised its mysterious ways."

He goes on with his tale: a duo of sisters feared for their strange looks, one for her yellow-hair, the color of the evil sun, and the other with eyes burned red from sin. Their presence cursed their people, and soon their tribe became sick from poisoned waters.

"Demanding a solution, the warrior and her sister prayed for a sign to help save their people," Levi read, "As the dawn broke over the dunes, the stars themselves fell from the sky and sank into their skin. The clan elders proclaimed:'The Will of the World has spoken. Be gone to the North, and only then will we be cured.'"

"Sounds like how lights came to me and Oswald."

"Very similar indeed." Levi doesn't look up but feels her eyes on him as he continues.

"The warrior woman and her sister travelled far to another land unlike the dunes they had left. Here, the sun was kinder, making the earth sweet and docile. In exchange, however, the people were weak in heart like sheep, and the Will of the World existed as a terrible force in the face of their simplicity.'

"Unlike the warrior and her sister, shaped to be bold and dark like the shadows that withstood the sun, these people were as pale as camel's milk. These milk-skinned people feared them for their difference, yet the ruler of this realm welcomed them. He said the stars foretold their arrival and it was the yellow-haired warrior's destiny to take over his duties as ruler after he died."

He watches her reaction; obviously there is something she immediately notices. "What happens to the sister?"

"I haven't decided yet. What do you think?"

"Can she become the Queen? That's the name of your story, right?" She gestures to the title at the top. "Or is the warrior named Queen?"

"The Queen I was thinking about comes in later."

"What's the warrior then? A King?"

"Ah, now here is the interesting part." His fingers brush the page. "She is called Glen."

* * *

 

Young Levi woke in the dark to the world trembling. The floor, the ceiling, the shelves -- everything trembled as if a giant had lifted the castle and pushed it around. He tried clinging to one of the wooden columns of the canopy bed but tumbled into the floor, dragging the duvet with him.

"Help!"

He thought about screaming but no more words came out from his mouth. Instead, he crawled beneath the bed frame and huddled. He squeezed both eyes shut. "Please stop, please stop, please stop--"

Time seemed to go on forever until Levi felt the world grow still. He opened his eyes. What was happening?

Crawling out from beneath the bed, he grappled in the dimness until he fingers touch a slick patch of grease staining the carpet. The oil lamp.

Getting to his knees he gingerly feels his way to the mantle, where a soft glow of embers awaited him. He took the poker and stirred the dying coals until they glowed. Glancing upwards through the window, he saw the sky was a sickening grayish-yellow color. Flashes of lightning danced across the horizon.

The Abyss.

"Oh no..." Levi quickly scrambled to find some clothes and hurriedly dressed himself. The half-light created shadows across his thin pubescent body, but he was already dressed in full frock coat, cravat, breeches, and stockings like a proper gentleman. Levi foregone the traditional wig for youths of his status (he never wore wigs, especially since his hair was typically white and long); instead he found a deep plum colored ribbon to tie back his locks.

By the doorway to the hall was a canvas bag containing his monitoring equipment. He grabbed it on his way out and hurried through the hallways.

The first aftershock hit right as Levi entered the Gate. He was thrown sideways through the flickering atmosphere. Levi raised his left hand.

"Raven, anchor!" he summoned in his mind. Immediately a dark fluttering clouded his vision. Shadows poured forth and a flutter of inky feathers from the depths in front of him.

The Raven's powers -- contained by talons bone white and scaled -- slammed into the unstable ground. Levi felt the black chains the Raven contained lock into his flesh and his soul.  He steadied himself and rose on both legs as the pastel world seemed to blink in and out around him. The twinkling balls of light that dotted this world scattered like flies as he straightened himself up.

Levi pulled out a contraption that looked like a cross between a tuning fork and a music box and aimed the prongs to his right where he felt the vibrations the strongest. The instrument shivered in his hold. He watched the meter's hand sway back and forth for the readout.

Too extreme. His readings jarred back and forth. Levi cursed quietly before speaking to his two Chains.

"Raven, Owl, we need to go in further."

"My Lord," the Owl said quietly from the corner of his mind, "What about your guardsmen?"

"What about them?"

"It is against the rules to go alone on a mission."

"I don't care."

"And Glen?" inquired the Raven.

Levi wished they didn't mention that. "You know as well as I do," he grimaced. "She's already here."

Though he had inherited two of the Chains by now, he could feel a strange ache in his limbs where the rest should be tied to his body. It was as if wells were dug in his flesh, ready to be filled, and all he could do nurse that emptiness inside, using the powers of the Abyss seeping through him. An odd pull came from those empty spaces and he knew they were from the other Chains, still connected to their owner.

The five black-winged Chains yearned to work together as one again.

Levi took a moment to pen down his observations. Each time he entered the Abyss, he took pains to leave a record of what he discovered. There had been older records of what past Glens had observed, and he recalled that the only time earthquakes happened in Sablier was when the Abyss was growing unstable.

His seismic recorder twitched violently. The energies in this realm were fluctuating.

His right hand lifted. "Owl." From the palm came flash and a sweep of luminescence as the Owl, no bigger than his fist, came into being. He launched the creature into the air and it grew a hundredfold, until the Owl was as large as a carriage. Levi clambered up her smooth back, his weight pressing into the fluffiness of her feathered coat.

He pointed the tuning fork in one direction and the Owl spread her giant wings and took off.

The three flew through the air, the Raven's invisible anchor at the Gate steadying their flight against the quaking atmosphere around them. The deeper they plunged into the Abyss, the light began to lessen and the colors faded into nothingness.

A vapidness seeped into the atmosphere, as if it were becoming a pure vacuum. Levi breathed shallowly, trying not to let this nothing-air get trapped in his lungs. The meter on the recorder batted back and forth like a conductor's baton, and then, at the crescendo of its last movement, it froze halfway.

"Owl, Raven, we're-"

The anomaly appeared.

A void, wide as an ocean and depthless, appeared below. The tether the Raven established snapped. Vertigo hit and the Chain became lost in view. He screamed, then the not-air hit his lungs and stifled them. The Raven burst into his sight again, wings flapping, feathers shedding. The Owl was trying to rise herself, giving alarmed screeches, but some otherworldly pressure pressed down on them.

Falling... falling... falling...

Levi glanced up into the bright flaming edges of the living Abyss they were quickly leaving behind and thought, desperately, "I can't die, I can't die, Glen told me--"

Another horror: "I'll never die, never die, and only fall forever--"

"Levi!"

Pain plunged into both his arms as the Raven's tether and the Owl's chain yanked him upwards from either side. His body jerked, rag-doll, and he felt another chain loop around his middle. The Dodo cawed and stomped his feet on the edge of the anomaly. The Gryphon swooped down and nudged the Owl from behind, supporting her as they all struggled against the negative forces bearing upon them.

"Push your Chains! Levi, move them!"

Oxygen filled his lungs as he rose above the Void's embrace. His lips parted and a loud roar was heard. The Jabberwock's huge claw plucked the Raven by its body and lifted the being up away from the anomaly.

The world turned upside-down and Levi felt his gorge rise with nausea. Suddenly, he tumbled onto the hard snowy ground of the Abyss. The breath pushed out of his lungs upon impact. Steady hands grasped his shoulders, pressed him tight. A husky voice ordered, "We have to use all of our powers, Levi. The Foundations around the Abyss are weakening."

He gasped for several seconds, cough, struggling to keep breathing. Finally, he commanded, "Go, Raven, Owl..." Levi slumped into those arms and felt the two avian beasts leave him to join their brethren.  

He stared up blankly as the Chains criss-crossed overhead. The tall straight figure in that flame-colored coat stood above him.

"Guide them. Feel the cracks in the links."

Yes. There they were. A million tiny cracks over the solid links larger than the castle. They were fractured here, this close to the anomaly.

"Seal them, Raven," Levi said.  

A sweep of black wings, the cackle of many throats, and a blast of bright blue flame. The foundational Chains, flickering in and out of existence, caught the flames from the Raven and the Jabberwock. Air came into form from the wingbeats of the others, cooling the spiritual heat. Together, the five black-winged Chains repaired the fractured link.

The process was slow and again, Levi felt his concentration weaken. He sat up, trying to harness all of the power channeling through him. The concentrated strength of the Abyss burst from his eye sockets and skin and fingertips and throat. The power flowed for a long, long time. What he thought he heard as a dull roar ripping through his head turned to sound as he realized how dry his throat had become from all of the screaming.

All that cosmic undulating energy seemed to crack through his very being. He was nothing, he was everything, he was a vessel...

Beside him, though his vision was nearly blinded by pure light, he saw the form of the Baskerville leader beside him and how she was basked in the light as well. His fingers hurt; she held his hand in her iron grip. Her brow furrowed, strong eyebrows bent, mouth roaring like a lioness and he was roaring too and they were warriors battling the dark, the two of them.

In the distance, beyond the rush and the roar, Levi squinted his eyes and saw five distant strands across the ocean of dark. Five chains, so far away as to be nothing more than threads in his eyes, all holding a single figure, dressed in crimson robes, limbs trapped, long white hair flowing, undone.

Levi didn't believe what he was seeing. Too late, too late; his research into the Abyss couldn't find the answer. There she was, and she was falling.

He watched the woman in the red dress sink into the Void and vanish.

The fractured link sealed. The length of spiritual metal blinked into non-existence. The Chains drifted, tired, and landed on either side of them. Levi's hand dropped and Glen's fingers slipped out of his.

His mind was whirl of images. _No, impossible. It wasn't her time. Mama said. Glen said._

"Glen." Levi's voice was a rasp. _You lied. You lied and she's gone and you made me help and you lied._

She panted, eyes closed, one arm flung across her chest. The other hand scant inches from his where she dropped his hold.

The pull. Three empty wells. The need to be filled.

The anomaly.

The edge.

Levi lifted a hand. She was exhausted. Levi was smaller and young, but strong.

Glen might not die, but simply fall and fall and fall....

There could be still time to rescue Mama.

Her eyes flicked open and she met his gaze. For a terrible moment, Levi thought she sensed his plot.

Instead, she asked, "Your gadgets led you here?"

"Um... yeah..." The seismic recorder was nowhere in sight. Mostly likely lost in the Void.

She rolled onto her knees in one graceful movement, flexed her arms. Glancing over one shoulder, her complexion a stark contrast to the bright world about her, Glen gave her silent appraisal.

"You have the makings of a great warrior," she said. "The work you did today proved this." A hand gesture and the Dodo, Gryphon, and Jabberwock vanished. "You should be very proud, Levi. Today could've been a disaster."

Despite his resentment toward her, Levi felt a sudden blush at her praise, followed by a stab of guilt. Why should he care what Glen thought of him?

He masked his ambivalent feelings by asking, "You're not mad I'm here?"

"You sensed danger and came to help." Glen extended a hand to him.

He bit his lip. Did Glen not notice? Was it part of the leader's longstanding scheme?

"Don't pretend you didn't see."

"See?"

"Mama was right there. While we were fixing that Foundation. She was THERE and now she's GONE!"

Glen blinked in surprise and drooped her head. Her braids formed a curtain before her face. "Oh, Levi...I should have realized..."

"DAMN YOU! It was all part of your trick, right? That is what you always do!" Levi scrambled to his feet and stomped away into the Abyss. Levi realized that the Void itself had vanished in the moments he had his back turned. Or, what if it was still there, somewhere under his feet, but merely subdued?

"Halt."

Levi stopped, breathing heavily.

Glen's voice was quiet and strong. "Think rationally. The anomaly reacted. You have only two chains. I have three. All five Chains are necessary for the final sacrifice. We were mending the Abyss. How would it be possible to see your mother here now?"

"I...don't know...." The Owl turned her head to him curiously and the Raven blinked. Levi snapped his fingers and they were sent away as well.

"You're smarter than that. You know how the Abyss works. Stop crying and reason."

Levi shoved his sleeve over his eyes and wiped them clean. He sniffed. "The Abyss.... time works differently...."

"So what you saw-?"

"The future."

Mama will always fall. No matter what he does, now or fifteen years from now, she will die.

Two hands pressed against his shoulders. A low whisper in his ear. "That is why the anomaly reacted today. It always reacts when it is most unstable. When a sacrifice is made anywhere in time."

She guided him forward, one arm draped over his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

Levi gazed up at her face. Not once, not ever since he tried to run away four years ago did Glen say anything to indicate regret or shame. Her face contained both. "I realize why you've been so fascinated by the Abyss," she said, "You were trying to understand this place in order to save her."

He could only nod.

"The Abyss is a great mystery, is it not?" She strode forward and picked up her longstaff, which Levi hadn't noticed was there until then. The two walked their way slowly through the Abyss. "Where I come from, we called it the Will of the World."

"So the Abyss exists there as well?" The idea made him feel queasy.

"We had stories, but my people never saw it like we see it now." Glen gave a strange smile. "Tell me what you remember about this place."

A test question. Levi wondered how much he should reveal of his knowledge, but figured it wouldn't hurt to show his hand a bit. "The Abyss is the source of all life," he answered. "So life in our world owes its allegiance to the Abyss."

"Exactly. Before the material world existed, there was nothing but the Abyss." A pause. "And do you know why our world was created?"

"Um... through the chaos theory?"

"Ah, by mere chance, eh?" Glen shook her head. "So do some philosophers say. But I think there is a different reason."

It was rare that Glen spoke so freely to Levi, but more and more often, she came to him for his thoughts and opinions. With this exchange of Chains from old ruler to the next, maybe Glen assumed the boy would feel a closeness to her. Levi internally rankled at the thought, but his curiosity got the best of him. Until this day, however, he never thought Glen considered him her equal, and perhaps, she somehow did. The old anger he held, tight as a fist around his heart, began to loosen.

"What reason is that?"

"Because the Abyss was lonely."

He scoffed. "But Glen, the Abyss can't have feelings."

"You have feelings, don't you?"

"Well, I'm alive."

"And life begets life. The Abyss created our world. We come from the world. We are intelligent beings and have emotions. Why can't the Abyss, too, have emotions?"

The realization silenced Levi for the rest of their walk.

Though mysterious ways, they reached the Gate sooner than Levi had expected. The landscape shifted so quickly and and time flowed different in this realm; they could have been walking for miles or years and not realize it. The only thing that prevented them from accidentally travelling forward or backwards in time, perhaps, was Glen's experienced understanding of this realm. Skills Levi knew she would teach him eventually.

Finally, as they stepped through into the material world, he couldn't help but ask: "If the Abyss has feelings, why do we still have to send Children of Misfortune to die?" He crossed his arms. "Why can't we tell the Abyss it makes us mad and it's not fair?"

"That is the Will of the World. It is presumptuous of us to assume we can understand the feelings of the Abyss." Her boots made soft padding noises against the rich carpeting of the tall stairwell. She leaned heavily on her longstaff as she moved, however, and Levi noticed she favored her left leg. Had she been injured in the fight? "After all, the Abyss will always exist. We are mere specks of life in the face of its immortality. I believe the Abyss sees everything very differently than we do, and we should respect that."

"Respect-? That we are just... just... nothing to the Abyss? That we have to kill people for it?"

"Levi, that Void, the anomaly, is the reason why the Children have to be sent there. We are the guardians of the Abyss and it is our duty to protect it."

"Because otherwise, the Abyss would self-destruct and kill everything. Not because the Abyss cares for us. If that is even true." Bitterness coated his voice.

Glen pinched the ridge of her nose and sighed. "Come," she directed.

Levi stared at her retreating back, but eventually followed.

In the far corner of the room was a heavy velvet curtain colored deep purple. Glen lifted the edge and slipped inside. Levi hesitated outside the memorial alcove; he hated paying his respects, not because he didn't care for the line of solemn men and women staring back at him, but because he felt a grave sense of futility looking at the faces of the dead.

Glen lit a candle before the last portrait of a fresh-faced girl. She was quite pretty, with high cheekbones, dusky skin, curling black hair, and eyes the color of rubies. Glen pressed three fingers to her lips and placed them against the painting's smooth forehead.

"The Abyss may be nothing to you, Levi, but these people, are they nothing?"

"No."

"We enforce the foundations of our world by drawing power from the Abyss and spreading it throughout the land. It is our duty to maintain balance. And these Children create imbalance and makes the anomaly react as it did today."

"So Mama has to die because she's dangerous?"

"To call her a danger is to assume she is evil." Glen offered a tapered candle to Levi and he took it. She bowed three times before the portrait on the wall, then planted her taper in front of it. Levi looked at the young girl and then at Glen. They both shared that same high forehead, the same strong jaw. "The Children are not evil, Levi. They are our royalty, and it is part of Glen's duty to serve them and the Abyss."

Below the picture frame was a foreign name etched in gold. Levi wondered if Glen had another name, long ago, that shared the language of this woman's.

"Everything Glen does, Glen does for the sake of the Children who are sacrificed as well. Because the Children love the world and everyone in it so much, they are prepared to give their lives for it." Her voice shook by the end.

"It's not fair."

"It's duty. Duty is not rooted in fairness, Levi. It is placed in honor and responsibility."

It was a stupid responsibility. A stupid, futile thing, to try and love the world that didn't care for you. "I don't want this."

"No one wants the duties they are born with. What matters is how you can control the powers that have been given to you." Glen's smile did not reach her eyes. She brushed the top of Levi's head and reached down to squeeze his shoulder as a fellow comrade-in-arms. "Your mother was born to be the queen of this generation. We are nothing but her warriors."

* * *

 

A few days later after Lacie's recent discovery, Levi sends for her again to visit after her dance lessons with Oswald. Near the tail-end of the hour, he enters to watch them together in the ballroom; Oswald is too stiff and Lacie steps on his shoes. Seeing them together makes him laugh, which of course frustrates the dance instructor and makes Lacie cross.

He brings her to his laboratory on the suggestion that she help record his latest calibrations on a contraption that resembled a speedometer but not quite ("This measures not the speed of an object through time, but the speed of time itself," he explains). Unlike her clumsiness in the ballroom, she carefully turns the dials and adjusts the weights and measures with small fingertips; she has the tip of her tongue out again while she does it.

"I've looked into your most recent discovery, darling."

"About my friend?" She stops nudging the counterweight along the scale and the tongue retreats.

"What you sensed was in all likelihood the Core of the Abyss."

Her eyes widen at his answers. He remembers how Kahina had done this for him: the sternness of her voice matched with the softness of her expression. The dim glow of the memorial candles casting a rich depth to her skin. Pungent incense filling the air, making him dizzy, even as he tried to fight his weakness using the adrenaline of anger.

So much difference between him and Lacie (and, for the conversation between him and Oswald.) Levi knows Oswald will cry while Levi had raged, which is specifically why he is telling Lacie by herself, without Oswald, because seeing her brother cry would not make her amenable to his plans.

"A Child of Misfortune may come in contact with the Abyss, something only Glen is rightfully permitted to do. That is the reason you will be returned to the darkness. The Core is the heart of the Abyss... touching it means controlling the world. Even Glen can't approach the Core unless a serious crisis occurs. Do you understand now? Your existence is a very dangerous one."

Lacie folds her hands in her lap and gazes at them. Levi wants to reach out and lift her chin, observe all of the gears turning in that head of hers. He wants to calculate the expression of her thoughts, annotate every moment of feeling.

Did his predecessor share these feelings too, long ago? Hard to say, even now. The last Glen had been a soldier of passion. She had wanted to inspire feelings of duty and honor in Levi and structured their destiny with the Abyss as one of great risk and honorable sacrifice. Levi, as a boy, had been asked to be brave and bold and true.

He does not want to foster that in Lacie. Lacie shouldn't be told falsehoods about noble idealism when their reality isn't ideal at all.

She slips from her chair, goes to the chart of the wall. Her hand presses against the mark where the Void is, pale against the blackness.

"The black chains that pull a sinner into the Abyss. I've heard only Chains with black wings can summon them." A twisted smile crosses her face, one that belongs to a person much older than her. "That means big brother will kill me after he becomes 'Glen' right---?"

"Correct."

The fingers fold into each other to form a fist. She slams them against the chart, once, twice and raises to ram her knuckles in one more time before Levi pulls her away before she hurt herself.

Her whole body shakes and she whispers, "Oswald wouldn't do that to me."

"He would be Glen, not Oswald anymore." Levi buries his head in her hair, inhales her warm young scent. She worms her way out of his embrace, spins around, and snaps, "You wouldn't do that."

"As Glen I would." Levi kneels down to her height, lifts a palm toward her, and lets her in on a secret that Levi wishes he had known at her age. "As head of the Baskervilles, I am obligated to do things as Glen always had done. Oswald, as Glen, cannot refuse his role either. But as long as I am myself, my own person, I want to try something else."

"How?"

"To tell you the truth, I shouldn't have shared the reason you'll be dropped into the Abyss with you. But I did so as myself, not because I am Glen." He gives his warmest smile and says, "Say, Lacie, if you're going to die anyway, how about you assist me in an experiment while you're still alive?"

She hesitates. "An experiment?"

He stands up and goes over to a shelf, pulls out a portfolio of papers and lays them on the desk by the wall. They were a series of historical documents he had kept in his private library, away from prying eyes. Encounters from people over the centuries who had claimed to notice a sentient being in the Abyss. "Yes. An experiment to see whether a human can come to use all the power that makes up the Abyss."

Confusion enters her face; she had made her way by threshold leading to the greater library, which Levi always keeps ajar when he is alone with Lacie or Oswald (a reminder to himself, for restraint). Her eyes go to the door, knowing it would offer escape, and then back to Levi, knowing he has always offered that escape. "That's impossible. You said the Abyss is a place where everything begins. The blueprint of the world. Something like a god."

"I did. But my question is not whether a human can become a god. What I'm trying to say is if we give a bodily vessel to the Core of the Abyss, which is currently shapeless... we might be able to make use of the power of the Core through that vessel."

"How can we do that?"

"Lacie, though your body will be destroyed in the Abyss, you can harbor another life inside you, being female."

"You mean a baby?"

Levi never told nonsense stories of storks and cabbage patches to Lacie and Oswald. They had fostered chicks from eggs, planted flowers in the garden with Celia, raised rabbits and piglets and later watched the cook slaughter the creatures for supper. Nature was loving and cruel. In all of these experiences, Levi had planted these seeds of thought in his wards: to be curious, to be blunt, to maintain no useless illusions in their lives.

He touches her shoulder and she moves away.

"Will the Core of the Abyss not be alone anymore?"

"Yes. Your baby will be the Core's best friend. The Core will live inside that body and will never be alone. Like how a Chain lives in partnership with its Contractor."

"Why can't I stay and be the Core's friend?" A dark expression. "The Core can be my partner forever right now."

"It can. I'm sure it wants you to stay." Levi moves in, presses a hand to her cheek. "But if you did, the Void inside the Abyss will destroy both worlds to look for you."

She doesn't recoil from his touch this time. He sees himself as a child and saying---

"It's not fair."

"The world isn't fair. But what we can do is fight the world in what ways we can."

"Fight like the warrior from your story?"

Levi hears a sad voice calling out. _Silence! Haunt me no more!_ he demands, but the sternly familiar echo cuts through his will.

_"Leah would be so disappointed, Levi. Why--"_

The voice is repressed and finally swallowed into the silence between Levi and the young girl. He leans into Lacie's ear and murmurs, "Warriors are replaceable. You are a queen."

**  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Book of Levi; And Other Fantastic Fairy Tales will continue on January 25, 2015.
> 
> Check out story art, fanmixes & more at the-book-of-levi on tumblr.
> 
> Your reviews are greatly appreciated!


	7. The Sea

That summer is the warmest predicted in the last ten years; Levi checks against the farmer's almanac and notes the shift in temperature being connected to an unusual weather system connected to the increased energy fluctuations of the Abyss. One of his predecessors had a scientific mind like himself, and much of their life was dedicated to the measurement of all of the atmospheric conditions of the Abyss. Though the place remains a mystery in many respects, solid information surrounding this realm can be recognized in the material world.

"Whew, Mr. Doug, I believe that this heat needs to be alleviated," he shields a hand over his eyes and waves an imported paper fan.

"I have to admit that the sea is calling to me again, Your Grace," the hunchbacked man replies. He has his hood down, exposing his round face. Despite wearing the red silk of summer cloaks, the material clings to his body and he roughly wipes his face with a handkerchief. His sleeves are rolled up beneath and the heavy muscles ripple. Doug speaks carefully, especially since this is the first time he has been invited in Levi's company in several months.

The new leader of the Baskerville household had locked himself into his library ever since his final coronation ceremony. He had conducted his business through correspondence slipped beneath the door. At night, strange chemical smells came from the west wing, and odd lights sometimes flickered in the windows.

Everyone fears that their leader had not survived the succession with his sanity intact (that had happened to other Glens in the past). That morning, Levi had appeared in the main hall during the guards' breakfast, smiling and clean-shaven and cheerful as always, and asks if anyone minded a round of chess after the meal.

Doug moves the pawn forward and Levi stares for a moment at the chessboard, before nudging the black knight across.

"Do you miss it at all?"

"Only storms followed me wherever I went. Lost several good crews until I shipwrecked here." A pause. "The sea's pushed me away, but it doesn't mean I wish she had."

That afternoon, Levi declares that he is going on holiday and orders his people to pack for a week. Wardrobes are assembled, food is prepared, barrels of ale and wine are rolled out from the cellar, carriages are prepped.

The next day, Levi heads for the shore with a small entourage and instructions to Mr. Fang to maintain the estate in his absence. Celia, who never likes to be reminded of her sea travels, elects to stay behind.

"Where will you be going?" she asks.

When Levi names the port town, Celia shakes her head. "Bad luck to return to places you've chosen to abandon."

"Whatever do you mean?" Levi asks innocently. "I find it nostalgic."

"Since when did you indulge in nostalgia?" Levi feels a twinge of guilt at her response. Out of everyone, Levi had avoided her the most after his ascension-not because she had the coldest reaction to the deaths of the old leader and his mother, but because Levi couldn't bear to see any expression of sympathy in her face or hear it in her voice.

Celia places a hand against his arm to stop him from leaving the room. "You aren't the type to be nostalgic. Imagine going across the sea?"

"I'd be greeted like a prodigal son in my homeland, I'm sure." A wry grin.

Celia laughs. "Where's your globe?" She navigates her hands along his desk until she finds the rotating globe that he kept in the corner. The surface was articulated, so she could feel the rise of mountains, the depths of ocean marinas, and the smooth blankness of the parts unexplored.

"Here we are," she announces, feeling the oddly pitted area near the top half. "Your Grace, don't tell me you'd rather avoid the Southern Reach?"

"I heard it's dreadfully tropical there."

"But the flowers! I bet they smell magnificent."

"You and your plants. Perhaps you'll run away and find your own garden in the wilderness." He takes the globe and spins it. Peaks and valleys slip out from beneath Celia's fingers until she halts its rotation. "Or here," she says, hands over the tiny ridges and bumps in the middle of the ocean. "The Central Archipelago. I bet I have a few aunties and uncles there."

"Sipping coconut wine, riding their giant chickens."

"They are emus, not chickens!"

"Emus. The only bird deserving to be that large are Chains."

"Ever thought your Dodo's lonely? That foolish bird would find a harem of lady emus ready for his love."

"Is that what you want?" His voice lowers.

Her hands retract from the surface and both eyebrows rise. "What?"

"To travel there." Levi traces the coast of this nation with a lazy finger. His fingernail scratches the enamel. "Find your family. Or at least experience something new." On rare occasions, Levi brought up the subject, especially beforehand, when the date for his final coronation had come closer. There is no rancor or envy in the question, but he thinks maybe Celia should take advantage of the fact she was brought to the castle as a fellow refugee, not as a fellow Baskerville.

"I experience new things all the time," she protests. "They know my face well in marketplaces across the country."

"Selling your rugs isn't the same as travelling."

"Of course not," she sniffs mockingly. "Because I spend my time productively, not idling it away on some beach."

"So you don't desire to see more? In the purely figurative sense."

"I can take that opportunity anytime I feel like it," she replies airily. They both know that Celia had become quite an accomplished artist and much demanded for her weavings. They stand on a rug that she had weaved herself after all.

Levi stares down at the complex patterns of light and dark. By Celia's own description, the colors are buttered rum, spring thaw, and prickly. Buttered rum is deep gold; spring thaw a pale green-blue; prickly a speckled red-orange. Colors were only words to Celia, so she used smells, tastes, and sensations to identify her hues. Can he calculate the hundreds of hours both of them sat in her cottage overflowing with wools and fabrics, while Levi catalogued her inventory using rich meals, feelings, and weather patterns?

A warm breeze rustles the curtains of the study windows and the fading day's shadows fall across the soft planes of her face. She senses him studying her and remains still, fingertips a hairsbreadth away from his.

Levi places both hands on hers. "I'd appreciate an experienced traveler by my side," he says. A pause, and he hurriedly adds: "I might get pickpocketed on my own."

"If you do, blame Mr. Doug for being utterly useless." Celia slips her hands away and reaches for her cane again. The clack of unfolding wood cuts the silence. "Have a grand time by the sea, Your Grace. Don't forget your parasol; you know that pasty skin of yours will burn to a crisp otherwise."

When she is gone, Levi berates himself for not being honest. But he couldn't be sure what he'd find at the sea, not yet. And perhaps he wouldn't need her help to retrieve what he needs.

* * *

The trip to the shore is a full week's journey away, and Levi complains the entire time about the heat, the long hours cooped up in the carriage, the jostling of the rough roads preventing him from reading his books without nausea. When they arrive in the port city, smells of the ocean draw him in and he urges the driver to head straight to the shoreline. He throws off his travelling cloak and runs, bare-headed, to the waterfront.

"Blessed be, mother ocean! Cool me in your saline embrace!" The sand piles around his ankles and gets into his buckled shoes; he pulls them off, along with his stockings and frock coat and wades into the frothy waters in nothing but his breeches and ruffled shirtsleeves.

"Your Grace!" Doug hops behind him along the dunes, a parasol tucked beneath one meaty arm. "You don't know how to swim!"

"I know. Isn't that  _thrilling_?" Levi takes a breath and plunges beneath a cresting wave. The shock of cool water sends goosebumps prickling up and down his arms and he gives a shout as he breaks through the surface. He throws his head back, his waterlogged hair a heavy mop getting into his eyes. He laughs and splashes Doug, who had respectably folded his stockings, shoes and cloak further up the beach, where he propped up the parasol.

"Teach me to float, Mr. Doug. Oh wait, let me try first." The water is waist deep, and he leans backwards and kicks his feet up. "Buoyancy, I command you in the name of scie-blurbblurb-"

Levi's erratic behavior concerns his old guardsman but he stoically pushes up Levi from underneath so the Baskerville Duke's midriff bobs upwards.

"You are ruining your wardrobe, Master Glen."

"Pffffft, maybe I should shed the whole garb." Levi grins mischievously up at Doug. "Stand me up, Mr. Doug, and let's see if my investigation yields results."

"Your Grace?" Doug rights him again and Levi wades to the beach. He shakes his head like a dog and wrings out his clothing. "Pray tell me there's an actual reason why you wanted to come straight here rather than meet the rest of the entourage at the royal pavilion."

"Ah, there is, my good fisherman." Levi shields his eyes against the sun and points toward the pilings by the dockside.

Their clothes had already started to stiffen and dry by the time they reached the docks. Ships from all around the globe tower around them, and the cry of gulls, seaside hawkers, and passersby fill the air. Levi goes to the nearest food cart and purchases a heaping pile of honeyed nuts and cashews and two bags of fried fish. He pops the candies in his mouth as they walk further away from the crowded commercial end and into danker and more rundown territory.

Levi and Doug arrive at a dim-looking cabin and Levi knocks at the door. The portal opens a crack and a swarthy face peers out behind it.

"Whatcha business?" the person scowls.

"I heard an important shipment arrived for me."

The head turns, "You asked for two young'uns, yes?"

"A boy and a girl."

Levi gestures to Doug, who kept the scroll tucked away safe and dry. Levi presents the document to the stranger and unrolls it to reveal the royal seal. "On the command of His Majesty."

"Oh, oh!" The door swings wider and the person - Levi couldn't really tell the age or gender of this being from beneath the rags they had draped around themselves - gives a deep bow of respect. "My Lordship."

Doug starts, "You shall refer to him as Your Grace."

"Please, Your Grace," the person falls on their knees, whimpering, "Please, please forgive me, Your Grace, My Lordship, good Sire, please don't take me in, I swear I didn't know-"

"That you smuggle children? How could you know, really, yet also maintain correspondence with me about all the details of your sordid business?"

"Your Grace, I beg you-"

Levi leans forward and presses his forehead to the smuggler's.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not sending the King's Men after you." He grins.

"You're not?"

"I have my own methods of getting rid of scum."

Doug's sword moves silently; the pathetic smuggler makes a gurgling noise and collapses to the ground. Levi gives one swift kick into the person's face and feels cartilage scrunch in a satisfying way.

Stepping around the pooling blood, Levi props both hands on his hips and exaggeratedly looks around. He wishes Celia were here by his side at that moment; she always had a way with children. But still, he tries his best. A deliciously greasy smell from the bags of fish fills the room.

In the far corner is a trap door, shoddily hidden underneath a sea chest. He walks over, lowers the food, and he and Doug push the trunk off. His guard lifts the wooden cover using both hands to reveal the contours of two children huddling beneath a burlap cloth. Levi crouches down and extends a hand to the oldest, a boy possessing deep violet eyes. Eyes very much like his own.

"Hullo there."

The boy squeezes the little girl tighter, his lips curled aggressively. She gazes back in curiosity, however. In this land of strangers, they'd recognize him as one of their own, and of course, associate his face with their forced captivity. The boy and his sister might share the same heritage as him. But these children were obviously mixed and unwanted for their black hair, or at least fetched a lower selling price in the underground market.

Cautiously, Levi lifts the first bag of fish and shakes it a bit. "Hungry?"

The girl squirms from beneath her brother's hold. Levi noticed in her grip is a worn and dirtied stuffed toy rabbit, reduced to nothing more than a rag at this point.

The boy snaps something in his native tongue that Levi instantly recognizes as, "Don't-"

"It's quite yummy," Levi explains in their shared language. The children draw back, even more fearful. Levi removes a piece from the bag and takes a bite of flakey crust. He holds the rest of the bag out to them again and this time, the girl snatches it away. Immediately, she crams the food into her mouth and makes loud smacking sounds as she chews. Levi hands the older boy the rest of the packets and the two huddle further back in their underground room, sitting on the burlap. The boy watches the girl eat her fill before eating the remaining portion slowly.

"Good, right?" Levi's knees start to ache from being on his haunches and so he sits and lets his calves lower over the edge of the floor to swing into the cellar. "I am called Glen. What are your names?"


	8. The Second Fairy Tale: The Mermaid's Last Song

For Doug

* * *

 

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where the ocean spread as far as the eye could see, there lived a fisherman who never drowned. He was lucky, they say, because at his birth, a night maiden came to bless him with power from the realm where all life comes from and where all life ends. The fisherman's health never waned, and his strength knew no limitations. He swam the furthest, dove the deepest, and rowed the longest out of any other fisherman in the village. He spent his nights out at sea, minding the nets and singing the chanties among his loyal crew.

One night, with the full moon's glow upon the bay, he saw a figure on the rocks, singing. This song paled in comparison to any other tune he had ever heard made by drum or pipes or human voice, and it never seemed to finish. The fisherman could not tell who this figure was, but her voice haunted his soul. He spent all night on deck, listening to the song and refusing to move until it ended. When the dawn's light broke over the rocks, the song was cut off and the daytime revealed no one sitting there.

The next night, the fisherman went out on desk and during the hour of the moon, that ethereal song floated out to him from the rocks once more. As soon as the song began, he was enraptured and could not even bear to move or speak until he heard the song's end. Again, the music flowed on and on for hours, until the sun crept over the horizon to reveal the empty rocks once more.

On the third night, the fisherman stood on deck and waited for the song to begin. "O singer," he whispered, "please reveal yourself to me."

"Fisherman," muttered a school of voices. "Fisherman, fisherman, listen to us."

The fisherman looked down at his nets to see them teeming with silver-backed fish. "We know the singer of this music," said the fish. "Release us and we will tell you the secret in capturing this song."

"I don't want to capture the song," said the fisherman, "I only want to hear how it ends."

"Release us and you will know how it ends."

So the fisherman loosened his nets and out swam the fish back into the ocean.

"Thank you," said the fish. "The owner of the song is a mermaid, one of the most fiercest creatures of the eight seas who lives in a palace at the center of the ocean. She comes out to sing her songs above the water only three nights every hundred years, and tonight is the last night she plans to sing."

"What luck!" cried the fisherman. "Will I hear the end to this song?"

"No," said the fish, "for this is the mermaid's last song, and to end the song will end her life."

Know that this song will continue for another hundred years, long after the fisherman would be gone, distressed him. "This cannot be! I must own this song for myself to hear the end."

"There is a way to save her song," said the fish. "The mermaid collects the tongues of men. Barter your tongue for her song."

The fisherman thanked his catch for their wisdom. The mermaid's song had not yet begun, and so he made his way to the rocks in hopes of meeting her.

During the deepest part of the night, the waves by the rocks parted and out rose the mermaid. She was dark-skinned and dark-finned, and the tips of her scales shone in the moonlight.

"Beautiful mermaid," said the fisherman, "I wish to have your song."

"O ho ho, human," chortled the mermaid. "Are you strong enough to pay the cost? I collect the tongues of men to own their voices forever. Offer me yours and you shall have my song."

The fisherman took out his knife and cut out his tongue then and there.

"Brave human, you shall get what you desire." The mermaid reached into the waters and pulled out a conch shell. She whispered into the ear of the conch and gave this shell to him. "This is my last song," said the mermaid, "and the most precious, for it will never fade or wane or end for as long as I shall live. Because you sacrificed your voice for me, this conch shall sing only for you."

That night was her last night above the ocean and she and the fisherman spent it together, united through her melodies until the dawn came. When the sun's fingers reached out over the rocks, the mermaid was gone and the fisherman held nothing but the white conch shell containing her song.

The fisherman, being blessed by the night maiden, knew that he did not trade away his voice forever, and soon, his tongue grew back in a day.

Still, he spent that day listening to the mermaid's song in his hut, and he did not go out to see his friends to sail on his boat. As true to her word, the song never faded or waned and grew more enchanting and beautiful with every new verse.

The fisherman soon stopped speaking. He stopped seeing his friends or fellow fishermen. The villagers became suspicious of his behavior, so unlike the outgoing man they knew before. "Prideful man," they muttered, "refusing to speak to his friends."

The fisherman didn't mind their words, for the mermaid's words were enough for him. After many weeks of his silence, his first mate paid him a visit. "O Captain, you haven't spoken for weeks. The villagers take it as a sign of your haughtiness. Tell me that isn't true."

The fisherman explained that he made a deal with a mermaid for her song at the cost of giving her his tongue. "But I proved more clever," he bragged, "for she didn't know the night maiden blessed me and my tongue grew back."

"Let me hear this mermaid song of yours," the first mate demanded. The fisherman showed him the conch. The most beautiful melodies emerged, but his friend heard none of it.

"Of course," thought the fisherman, "this song is only meant for me."

Soon, the first mate told this story to the village and the villagers shunned him as being cursed. "Unlucky man," they muttered, "to lose his voice to a mermaid and have her fool him so. We don't want such foul luck to befall us too."

After a time, the villagers could not stand the fisherman's plight and left him alone. Not even his first mate visited. But that mattered not, since he had the mermaid's song for company.

One day, however, the fisherman grew tired of his hut, though he did not want to leave his song. He went out to his boat with the conch, planning to listen to the mermaid's song as he floated out to the ocean. As soon as he reached deep waters, he placed the conch beside him and began to sing, softly, along with the mermaid.

However, as he sang, the fish below heard him. "O ho ho," they said, "won't the mermaid be furious to hear this fisherman sing her song?"

The fish swam to her palace and reported their findings to her. Outraged, the mermaid returned to the bay and found the fisherman in his boat.

"Foul human," she exclaimed. "What arrogant mortal tries to trick me?"

At her scream, the song in the conch turned sour and shrill and loud. The mermaid's tune echoed across the bay, reaching inside every home in the village. The people stumbled out, holding their bleeding ears.

"Stop!" begged the fisherman. "Please do not harm them. It was my fault for tricking you."

"And it will be your fault when they die," said the mermaid. "There is only one way to stop my song."

"Feed me your tongue," sang the conch. "Feed me your tongue."

"Stop!" the man said. He cut out his tongue and stuffed it into the conch, silencing the song in mid-verse.

The mermaid cackled. "May my song never leave you," she said, "and may it never fade or wane until you feed your tongue to it every night."

With that proclamation, she dove into the waves and vanished.

Thus, the fisherman was cursed. Each night, he cut out his tongue to feed to the conch, and each day, his tongue grew back. Many times he tried to get rid of the conch, but the shell always returned to him. He threw the conch out to sea, he tried burying it in the sand, he burned it in a deep pit. No matter what he did, the conch appeared in his hut the next day.

"Feed me your tongue," sang the conch. "Feed me your tongue." Then the mermaid's sound would turn sour once more and the pain stabbed at the ears of every man, woman, and child in the village.

"You are a danger," said the villagers. "You must return the conch to the mermaid's palace at the center of the ocean, or you can never return."

Thus, the fisherman took his boat and sailed far out to sea. No one elected to join him, not even his stalwart first mate.

Many months passed as the man sailed across the world to find the mermaid and return her song. The fisherman grew resentful and bitter and sad. Every night, the conch demanded his tongue but it sang no sweet tunes anymore, but gave only a low moaning cry. Finally, the fisherman reached the center of the ocean.

"No more!" he shouted. "No more!" He threw the conch into the waters and watched it sink beneath the waves.

As soon as the shell disappeared from view, the seas churned and a spout of water flew up in the air. The mermaid rode atop the spout seated on a throne of coral. "Ungrateful man," she sneered, "'tis back luck to return a mermaid's last song."

With one hand she summoned the waves, and with the other, she gathered the winds. A storm beyond all human imagining formed and smashed the boat to pieces.

The fisherman, blessed by the night maiden, could not drown, and so he floated across the ocean until he landed upon a distant shore. Alone on a strange beach, the man wept from grief and despair.

The night maiden heard his cries. She came out of the realm where life begins and ends to ask, "My star-blessed child, why are you so sad?"

The fisherman said, "I had been greedy and ungrateful to the mermaid and stole her song. I have suffered deeply for this crime, and now I have nothing, not even her music to comfort me."

Pity filled the night maiden's eyes. "Poor man," she murmured, "I will bring you to a place full of sadness, but wherein lies the most precious songs you will ever know. Serve the masters there and you will be as happy as you can be for the rest of your days."

The fisherman followed the night maiden to a new land, far away from the sea. There was a castle and the master of the castle gave him a red cloak. He said the fisherman could serve him for as long as the stars remained in the sky. The fisherman found happiness at this castle and his heart filled up from the songs sung by the masters he served and by the masters' children he watched and by the colleagues who fought by his side.

There was sadness, true, for he also witnessed his masters and his masters' children grow old and die, generation after generation, and he could not stop their deaths. Still, all of the lives he protected he valued even more than he had valued that conch.

Yet never again did the fisherman sail the ocean, and never again did he hear the mermaid's song which had pulled at his heart.


	9. A Place for Stories

"Eeee-yaaaaaah!"

Lacie's sudden cry jars Levi's hold upon his teacup. The girl races across his field of vision as a purple blur, overturning the plate of scones and stuffed miniature pigeon pies.

"Oh?" he comments as she cowers behind her older brother.

"A bug, a bug," she pants. Pointing to the far end of the picnic blanket, she reiterates the phrase and pushes Oswald in front of her. "Get rid of it now!"

Oswald lies flat on the blanket and surveys the object of her fright. The stag beetle had fallen from its place on the nearby tree trunk and now waddles across the fabric, its protruding horns getting slightly snagged on the material. "Interesting," the boy comments.

"It's coming closer," his ten-year-old little sister wails. She picks up a rather large stick from the corner of the sheet and places it in his hand. "Go do it!"

"I'm not your pet, Lacie," Oswald replies flatly. "You see the bugs in Master's collection. Why do these frighten you?"

"Duh, those are  _different_ , because they're framed and already  _dead_." She grabs the stick out of his palm and pokes the overturned beetle. "Glen, do you want this? Take it away, nownownow-"

"I'm rather fine seeing the beetle like this." Levi takes a sip and nudges the folds of the blanket one way so the stag beetle stumbles away toward the grass.

"Lacie, Master Glen doesn't value things while they're alive and only likes dead things when they're unique." The fact Oswald says this so plainly shocks him. Beneath the surprise, a pinprick pierces his chest.

He lowers his cup and saucer. "Whoa, whoa," he says. "When did you get that morbid impression?" He tousles Oswald's hair. Oswald's expression gives little away as he looks as him from the side. The boy doesn't come off as a pessimistic child, only a little too solemn sometimes.

Heartless was a word Celia used to describe him years ago and the return of that idea rankled him. How inaccurate! Levi is the most congenial fellow; how could he be heartless? He had become an unromantic and non-judgmental man, and either quality does not equal a lack of empathy.

"I value you," Levi says. "You two are the most important people in the world to me."

"I know," Oswald replies. He gets up and checks his pocketwatch.  _What a stodgy old man gesture, to check one's pocketwatch!_  Levi thinks. But even moreso than him, Oswald is always concerned with being precise.

"Come here, Lacie. Our governess will be angry if we are late for our lessons. Thank you for the meal, Master Glen. See you later tonight." He gets up to return inside. Lacie still has her eyes on the beetle, as if the creature plotted secret threats to incur as soon as her back was turned.

"Oh here." Levi upturns a spare cup and covers the stag beetle. "The coast is clear. Run away!"

Now far less frightened and far more playful, she cries, "Eeeeeee-yaaaaaay!" and runs circles twice around Levi, arms extended, before swooping around a bush and following her brother.

Levi pushes the cup aside and frowns. Around Oswald's age, Kahina made Levi her valet and full-time apprentice. He loathed the idea of having a manservant (though secretly was amused by the thought of how far he could order Oswald about) and had delayed the tradition in this case. For a long time, Fang had acted as Glen's manservant before the tradition had been adjusted during the the Two Forks River Uprising several decades past and he proved more efficient leading other soldiers than pressing trousers and serving tea. Since then, the proceeding Glen had established an odd master-servant relationship with their heir.

The train of thought continues into the next series of meetings that afternoon with the King's Ambassador, another overly-serious young noble by the name of Lord Raymond Nightray. The King himself rarely visits the Baskerville estate, preferring to treat them as a man would treat a despised but infirm relation: monitoring out of obligation rather than true commitment.

After the meeting, Levi takes Fang aside. The Baskerville had been the security director for the last three Glens, he knew, and was a staple in his own childhood. Perhaps the light-haired northerner could share some insight into this predicament with these children.

"Mr. Fang, an observation."

"Yes, there was a bit of watercress stuck between Lord Raymond's two front teeth from lunch, and yes, I think we all thought not to comment."

"Thank gods for that or else I wouldn't have been able to get through that dreck." Levi closes the door to the side parlor. The spot is a particular favorite of his because of its reclusiveness and a set of amusingly crass portraitures he had installed along the top tier of the ceiling. He is particularly fond of aesthetics which make certain people uncomfortable.

He collapses into a padded chair and stares up at the ceiling. "I don't think Oswald and Lacie like me much. I can't put my finger on why."

"Really? Isn't Miss Lacie rather fond of you? She talks about you all the time."

"Lacie is a chatty girl and adores company. To be honest, she's the type who will always use her outgoingness to mask her fears. Oswald doesn't have that layer of subterfuge. Whatever he is feeling, it's a warning flag to how they both really are." He tilts his head straight. "Tell me, Mr. Fang, am I insufferable?"

"I've served under worse."

At Levi's expression, Fang coughs into his fist. "Deepest apologies, Your Grace. I thought this was one of your joking moods."

"I can be serious, Mr. Fang. You know how determined I was in my youth." He sighs. "Around this time, I became Kahina's manservant, do you recall? I never liked the practice - I mean, what is the point of the heir's servitude if that has already been made an obligation?" The tail end of the remark came off on a bitter note as the memory of his forced promise to his mother came to mind, made under the duress of his loyalty pledge.

"I thought you warmed to your predecessor."

"That... that isn't the point. I want to be able to make different choices than what she had made for me. She was so... martial... and I always believed that if given the chance..."

"Your Grace, if this does not overstep my bounds, may I be permitted to give an honest opinion?"

"Your honesty is always welcome."

"You were raised holding certain beliefs, but those beliefs... the seeds didn't spring from no where. Children always grow to either be akin to their parents or in rebellion against them. And these beliefs form from the environment a child is born into as well. I don't think you absorbed the horrors surrounding the circumstances of your birth, though it planted the roots of yourself and affected the people who raised you. But Oswald and Lacie had been found when they were older and comprehended more, and so... " Fang hesitates. "There may always be a part of them who will never trust anyone as long as they know they are bound to certain rules. Even someone like yourself."

The two men are silent for a time, before Fang says, "Again, I've offended my Lord and I-"

"No," Levi says softly. "You aren't obligated to apologize." The silence falls again before Fang rises to be dismissed.

* * *

"First position," commanded Fang. Young Levi placed one foot behind the other, raised his longsword, imitating the head of security. The day was slightly overcast, but rain seemed far off, and Fang preferred to expose Levi to as much open air as possible. "To get all of the dust out of your eyes from that cramped study," Fang often joked, though Levi protested that he still took a daily constitutional with Mama through the forests, and didn't spend  _all_ his time reading.

They go through the set exercises until Levi swore his arms would break off. Practicing every single morning for the last three months had developed his muscles quite nicely and no longer was he as scrawny as he had been.

Levi collapsed after the hour ended, however, winded, and poured the whole glass of water over his head as opposed to drinking it. "Whewwww!" He fell back and spread his limbs across the hard dirt. "You work me too hard, Mr. Fang!"

"Young Master has no idea what training is like. I've seen worse in the army." Fang offers another glass. "Now replenish yourself and actually drink this one."

Fang picked up a towel and mopped up the sweat over his brow, neck and shoulders. Though Levi wore a light chemise during combat training, Fang always removed his shirt. Across his torso and alongside his back were huge patches of scar tissue.

Levi chugged the water down and asked the commander, "Were you in the Baskerville regiment of the army?"

"Long ago," was his answer, but then again, that was how Fang answered most questions concerning his past.

"So you got your scars from there?"

"No, but it's a sad story. You wouldn't want to hear it."

"Don't we all have sad stories, though?" Levi sat up, cross-legged. "I'd rather know all stories a person has. It makes them more interesting."

"Are you going to tell Levi that tale you told me about the sheep herder and the casket?" asked a new voice. Glen emerged from under the courtyard archways. "That always has me cracking up."

"Your Grace." Fang tapped both heels together and gave a deep bow. Levi did the same. "Young Master was curious about my battle tales. I find them too bloody for a child, though."

"Levi, how old are you?"

"Twelve, Your Grace." A month passed since the incident in the Abyss, and Levi had been deliberately avoiding any run-ins with the leader of the Baskervilles. Something had distinctly changed in their relations since they fought side-by-side and he finally had to accept his mother's fate. Levi couldn't believe he shared a sense of camaraderie with Glen, but he also couldn't muster up that old resentment toward her and her orders. Yet he had been used to holding that shield against her for so long, having it cracked and broken left him confused more than relieved.

"At a dozen years, I rode with my kinswomen and wagered hand-to-hand combat against our foes," Glen noted, leaning on her longstaff. "I say it's fine not to coddle the boy."

"Well, then, when you are old enough for an ale, I'll pour you one and tell you everything," Fang promised. He shrugs on a linen shirt and covers the old wounds once more. "We had just finished our practice for this afternoon, but you are welcome to assess young Master Levi's progress tomorrow, Your Grace."

"I'd be amenable to that. Thank you, Mr. Fang. Levi, I wanted to show you something you'd like."

"What would that be?"

"My collection. A place for stories."

"Collection of what?"

"Why, everything interesting of course." She gave a look to judge his reaction, and Levi only felt slightly annoyed. "One can't have everything, though," he insisted. "You have to be more specific."

"I was. Only interesting things. But first, close your eyes."

The look on his face made her laugh. "I'm not going to drop you off a cliff, boy."

"Fine." He covered his eyes with both hands and Kahina pushed him gently by the shoulders and led him down the hallways before stopping him. There was a creak of heavy doors and she said, "Now open them."

Levi thought he owned a lot of books (at least three whole shelves of them) but what he saw made his jaw drop. The room was three times Doug's height and nearly as wide as the ballroom. Shelves tower up to the ceiling. Balconies wrapped around the room halfway through. Display cases containing all sorts of things from herbology to mineralogy to the skeletons of animals in pitted alcoves in the walls. In the open space between shelves sat full suits of armour from across the ages, swords of every make and from every culture, along with spears, arrows, shields and other objects he couldn't identify except by how sharp they were.

"As Glen, this collection will become your responsibility. You are free to add or discard anything in these rooms according to what you find fascinating."

Immediately, Levi saw an articulated globe half the height he was in the corner. He raced to it and slapped his hand across to make it spin. "Everything in here will be mine?"

"Along with the rest of the castle. But while you learn more about your future obligations, I don't see why you can't use this space as your own." She walked to the far end of the library and pushed open another set of double doors. Beyond lay one room, and through that was another and another. Levi stepped forward and stuck his head through to see as many books and glass displays as the last. "How large is this?"

"Five rooms, but I am having several more built." Glen took a seat on a leather overstuffed chair beside a small table with some sort of board game set up on top of it. Levi slipped into its twin opposite her. She leaned her elbows on the lacquered surface of the table. "I made a mistake of not satisfying your curiosity and only made you suspicious and angry. This library is for you to explore any question you wish."

Levi blinked. Had his emotions been that obvious?

"I only expect the best from you, because you've been chosen to be the best. I know you've felt tension, but I realize you're your own person and you need time, just as I did. It isn't my place to disrespect how you see the world."

No one had ever addressed him in such a forthright way before. He only replied, "Can I choose what goes in the rest of the rooms?"

"They will be your rooms." She gestured with a nod toward a curving iron staircase going straight to the ceiling. "One more thing."

They ascended the stairs and she opens the portal at the top. An icy wind blew and Glen picked up a shawl hanging on a hook by the landing.

"It gets brisk this time of year."

They stood one one of the many flat roofs of the castle. Below, Levi saw the city of Sablier spread out like a toy town, and beyond that was farmland and valleys. In the distance, a smoky blue ridge on the horizon marked the mountains.

"It's not dark yet, but we should return tonight so I can show you the stars using this." She removed a muslin cover over a brass and silver tube on stilts. Not the best description, but the first to come to mind. "What...?"

"A telescope. This lets you see the heavens up close." She placed a hand on its smooth side. "I had this since I was young. Some of my people believed you could read one's fortune through the signs in the sky."

"Can you teach me that too, Glen?"

"If you wish. But please, Levi, Glen is a title. Here we talk as equals. Call me by my true name." She offered a hand to him as if making his acquaintance for the first time. "Kahina."

* * *

A bit of summer dies away in the evenings at this time of year, and LeviI dons the old shawl he keeps on the hook by the landing when he takes Oswald up to see the stars. Oswald steadily carries two sealed earthen jars of cocoa and coffee each in the picnic basket along: his first task as Levi's new manservant.

"You can put this over there," Levi instructs as he lays the shawl on the rooftop. "Time check?"

"Half-past two, Master Glen," Oswald reports, stifling a yawn.

"None of that." Levi unscrews the top of the jar of coffee and pours a small amount into a thick-rimmed glass cup with a metal handle, then tops it off with the cocoa. "For you," he offers to the boy. He pours himself the same mixture and blows the steam off the top. "We should be just in time. Look, there, near the west." He points at the first falling meteor tumbling to the horizon.

"Oh." Oswald is suddenly attentive. "A falling star!"

"Point out the next one to me."

"There, Master! No, wait. There's another one!"

A few minutes pass as Oswald and Levi watch the meteor shower, shoulders pressed beside each other as they sip their drinks in the chill air.

"They say that once you see a falling star, you can make a wish upon it." Levi gestures above him, lowering his cup. "Chose any of them, Oswald, and make it happen."

"Master Glen, don't be silly," Oswald says, "How can a falling star help anything?"

"Well, do you call yourself a sorcerer?"

"No."

"Then what makes you think the magic of falling stars isn't true?"

Oswald cradles his cup in both hands. "Even if I wish on all of these stars, what I want won't be granted."

Levi suspects he knows the answer, but asks anyway. "What would that be?"

The boy frowns at his cup and lowers it. "Why does Lacie have to die?" And then: "What can I do to stop this?"

At that moment, at the deepest part of the night and only a half-moon to offer any sort of light, Oswald is a silhouette at his side. Perhaps the darkness allows a part of that child's guard lower as his shoulders dip and his voice grows very small. Levi moves to touch him and Oswald shies away, huddling his arms around his knees. For the first time, Levi feels afraid with Oswald: not because of what the boy does, but because the boy dreads Levi's answer so much.

Words dry up in his throat and instead he gulps down the coffee to feel it scald all the way down.

He doesn't deserve the right to ask these children for anything, Levi realizes. He can demand their obedience and provide all the material comforts they desire, but that is not the same as offering tenderness or understanding. For him to want these children to give something freely when all he provided was incentives and conditioning... and when they thought those gifts had always been cloaks for other desires...

The pain of the hot liquid resides and he finds his voice again. "Let me tell you a story someone once told me a long time ago, right in this very spot. Would you like to hear a story?"

The hesitation passes once Oswald realizes that was the only question being asked. "Yes, please."

Levi begins. "Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where the sun did not set, there was a distant country called the Land of Endless Light."

"Is that the same as the Abyss that we know?"

"No, our Abyss and the Land of Endless Light are very different, but they once were the same. No one knew the power of that Land except for one very special person. He was a little prince, and had straight black hair and deep violet eyes, very much like you."

"But a different person?"

"Not so much different." Levi continues his fairy tale and points to the stars. Slowly the sky begins to lighten as the story unfolds, and Oswald poses many questions along the way. Coffee and cocoa are drunk; empty cups topple over on the shawl, forgotten.

They share many things that night about the Abyss and the stars and the tangled relationship they have with their world. Levi recounts almost all of the tales he was told as a child about the meanings of stars, and their purpose in guiding one's fate. He doesn't know whether these superstitions have any credibility as anything more than simple folk wisdom and mythic lore, but they come forth nonetheless. Stories upon stories. Knights and witches. Magical kingdoms under the sea. Hunters chasing bears, and women gathering waters in towering jars. All these stories laid in the heavens, waiting to be read by the tiny people below.

As dawn's light begins to break, Levi poses a question of his own while Oswald fights his way through a yawn as he slumps against his side.

"Do you resent me?"

The yawn is stoppered. "No."

"Then why did you say what you did the other day in the garden?"

"I was being honest." Oswald rubs his eyes. "That's what you like, right?"

A dark chuckle. "I do." Levi runs his fingers through Oswald's short locks as the boy lays curled beside him, the shawl shielding him from the early morning chill. Soon, the child's breathing is light and steady. Levi is captivated by the lingering feeling of warmth and trust to be this close to the boy. How strong Oswald truly had been all this time to mask this vulnerability.

Levi suddenly has the urge to hug him tightly and never let go, but he restrains himself because he knows better than to hold Oswald so suddenly and without permission.

His fingers stop their motion along Oswald's scalp. "Want me to tell you a secret, Oswald? One you must never tell Lacie."

"Mmmm-hmmm," the boy mumbles.

Levi presses his lips to the top of Oswald's head. "I love you and Lacie very much. I won't say it again, because it's cruel to know how deeply someone loves you when they will inevitably need to hurt you. But I do, I truly do. Can you remember that?"

The boy sighs. Maybe he has already drifted off to sleep. Levi wraps him in the blanket, lifts him into his arms, and carries him inside.

Above, the stars fade into the day.


	10. The Third Fairy Tale: The Little Prince in the Land of Endless Light

For Oswald

* * *

 

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where the sun did not set, there was a distant country called the Land of Endless Light. No one knew the power of that Land except for one very special person. He was a little prince, who possessed straight black hair and deep violet eyes.

The little prince was a thoughtful soul, who never went out of his way to do harm to the Land in which he dwelled. He treated all of its inhabitants, from the smallest bug to the greatest beast, with respect and kindness. In his garden, he watered all of his plants and made sure they got enough sunlight to flourish. In his forest, he befriended all creatures, large and small. His most loyal friends were five beasts who bore wings colored blacker than night: the Raven, the Owl, the Dodo, the Gryphon, and the Jabberwock.

The Land of Endless Light recognized the tenderness in the little prince's heart. In response to this, the Land glowed and shimmered in the colors of a thousand different hues. His friends, the Black Five, also loved and cherished their prince deeply, and often would follow him wherever he went.

One evening, while the prince sat in his garden, he saw something odd. A black fuzz, smaller than his littlest finger, drifted in the air. This was unlike any other colored light the Land emitted, and the little prince reached out to the black fuzz and said, "Hullo there. What are you?"

"I am the Darkness," said the black fuzz, "and for the last thousand years I had slumbered inside this Land. But now I have awoken and am quite sad."

"Why are you sad?" asked the little prince, instantly concerned.

"Because I am hungry," said the Darkness. "While I had been slumbering, I wasted away until I am no bigger than your littlest finger. Please, help me find something to eat."

Because the little prince never liked to see anything in pain, he cupped the black fuzz in his palm and said, "I shall give you plenty of good things to eat in my home."

Inside the little prince's home, he placed the Darkness on his table. "What would you like?" asked the prince. "I have tea and sweets and bread pudding."

"I don't like any of those," said the black fuzz. It shifted toward the candle flickering on the table. "Those look quite tasty," it said and it hovered over the little flame and with a  _pop! pop!_ sound, the Darkness ate the candle flame in two bites.

"Yummy!"

And upon eating the flame, the Darkness grew twice more than it was. "May I have some more?" asked the Darkness.

The little prince obliged, especially since the black fuzz was still such a small thing, and it was hungry. He lit the lantern on the table and the flame flickered as big as two fingers. The Darkness hovered over the lantern and with a  _pop! pop!_  sound, the Darkness ate the lantern flame whole.

"Yummy!"

And the Darkness grew four times more than it was. "May I have some more?" asked the Darkness.

By this time, the Darkness was as large as the little prince's head. He obliged, especially since the Darkness was still a small thing and hungry. He lit the kitchen fireplace and threw in some logs, until a mighty fire blazed within. The Darkness crawled in front of the fireplace and with a  _pop! pop!_  sound, the Darkness consumed the flame whole.

"Yummy!"

And the Darkness grew eight times more than it was."May I have some more?" asked the Darkness.

The black fuzz was small no more, but as large as a horse. Pieces of it puffed up as it spoke. "Please, I want to eat more."

The little prince had to put his foot down. "I can't," he said, "you have grown too much too quickly."

"Why can't I grow some more?" said the Darkness indignantly. It floated out of the little prince's house in a huge cloud of smoke. Once the Darkness left the confines of the home, it expanded bigger and bigger and bigger, eating up all of the glowing balls of light and golden beams the Land gave off.

"Please stop!" cried the little prince. "You cannot eat all of the light in this world."

"And why not?" rumbled the Darkness. "I have slumbered for a thousand years while the Light reigned. Time for me to take what had been stolen from me." The Darkness grew and grew. The Land of Endless Light trembled and began to crack into pieces.

"Help me!" cried the little prince. "Raven, Owl, Dodo, Gryphon, Jabberwock!"

The Black Five came to the little prince's aid. "What is wrong?" they exclaimed.

"There is a great Darkness in this world that threatens to consume all our light," he said. "We must stop it before it breaks up the entire Land!"

"Indeed, we shall do this," the black winged creatures vowed. "Little prince, bid us to fly against the Darkness, and we will!"

"Fly!" commanded the little prince. "Fly!"

And so the wings of the Black Five grew into Chains, and these Chains wrapped themselves around the Darkness. The little prince's friends caged the Darkness and threw it up, up, up into the stars. The Darkness landed there, and the stars pinned it back. There it remains to this day, and that is why night exists.

The Land of Endless Light, however, suffered greatly from the Darkness trying to eat it whole. Cracks tore throughout the Land, and every step threatened to break it all into bits.

The little prince knelt and started to weep for his poor Land which he loved so much.

His Chains gathered around him. "Don't cry," they said, for every tear the prince shed seemed to crack the earth where it landed.

"It is all my fault," said the little prince. "If I had not fed the Darkness, it wouldn't have tried to destroy the world!"

"Your only fault is your kindness," said the Raven.

"And your kindness is also your greatest strength," added the Owl.

"You cannot blame yourself for what the Darkness does," murmured the Dodo. "It tricked you."

"But my prince," growled the Gryphon, "there is still a way to rescue this Land."

"Let us bind this world together just as we had bound up the Darkness," the Jabberwock said in a mighty roar. "Be strong with us, little prince, and we shall protect everything."

"Thank you my friends," the little prince said, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Let us protect this broken world with what we have."

So the little prince and the Black Five made a promise to the Land of Endless Light that day: to keep it whole and strong, no matter how much the Darkness lurked over their heads.

Ever since then, the Chains work to bind the Land together, and the little prince, and all of the little princes and princesses after him, fight to keep the world alive.


	11. Coming of Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on my previously published ficlet, "Fit for Society", on Ao3.

Very few rules are enforced within the Baskerville household, and Levi is especially lenient toward the sole occupant of the Tower. The year Lacie turns fifteen, she demands one thing and one thing only for her birthday, and the man doesn't hesitate to indulge her.

"I want a coming of age ceremony."

"Oh?" Levi asks, combing through her hair. A handmaiden's chore elevated to a lover's pleasure, though Lacie remains untouched by him otherwise. Untouched, but certainly not untainted – she chose to give her virginity the first time she ran away two years ago in a pique of adolescent rebellion. The Baskerville leader had laughed joyfully at her initiative when she returned, red-cheeked and chin lifted in youthful defiance. He had told her then, "I'm sure you wanted to practice before our experiment," and taught her ways to protect her womb and health for future dalliances. Letting the fine dark hairs slip through his fingers he wonders if this is the birthday when she considers herself well-practiced enough for him.

"You said I could have anything I desired. I want to be considered fit for society, like you and Oswald."

"I see…" Levi lowers his brush and winds his bare hands in her hair. "Society's not as it's cracked up to be." She smells of deep musk and bitter cloves and the scent seems to stain his fingers with their intensity.

Both of them know that Children of Misfortune are not honored with such ceremonies, since the Baskervilles intentionally shelter their entire lives away from the world. Perhaps seeing Oswald's lavish gala had planted the seed of envy inside this young woman. Or her stolen adventures outside the estate walls that Levi overlooked are not enough to satisfy her.

"But then you will be obligated to do all the things young people must do when they come of age," he says teasingly. "Like put up your hair in the fashion of nobles." Deftly, he begins to braid her hair with experienced fingers. An old memory of the Baskerville leader before him guided his motions and he recalled the gentle touch of her hands as she taught him how to maintain his locks in the same way she did. The southern woman's unique hair braids are the only thing he carried away from his past life after he became Glen.

"Maybe I will then. And I'll pierce my ears too and wear beautiful jewels in them like proper adults do." Lacie gazes at her reflection as the thick circlet of black hair works its way around her scalp.

Levi chuckles. "Oh, you'll despise all of the formalities soon enough."

Despite the winter snows that graced the lawn of the estate, the ball that is held two weeks later espouses all the warmth and beauty of a summer day. In the main ballroom, bright lanterns glow against the early night's darkness, and the color scheme is in the buttery yellows and golds that Lacie wanted to adorn the world in. Greenhouse trees rich with dripping fruit are brought into the ballroom to imitate some sort of tropical garden, and Celia orders in foreign birds of paradise to flutter from branches overhead.

"Did they choose the right colors?" Celia asks sternly as the cages are brought in.

"Happiness, flirtation, pique, and dignity," Levi verifies as the mass of red, greens, blues and golds fill his vision.

"Perfect. They came all the way for the Archipelago and I worried the storms this year would give the merchant an excuse to send me a lesser breed." She taps the golden cage with the top of her cane. "Be a dear, Your Grace, and fetch me a feather for my sampler book."

The bird in question squawks as her rapping and starts pecking at Levi's approaching fingers.

"Couldn't we get shed feathers afterwards?"

"After people had trod all over them and ruined their fresh color? Nonsense."

"But they bite!"

"They are lovely, Lady Celia." Levi turns and Lacie steps out of the curtained partition, barefoot, dressed in her first ladies gown of deep red and purples. Her shoulders and arms are bare and the dress is all floating silks and petticoats. A sheer capelet is pinned to her shoulderblades of the dress and flutters in the air, making her appear like a fairy maid of old. The hothouse lights makes the jewels tucked in her black hair sparkle; it is braided in a circlet, piled on top of her head, with a few tendrils hanging down from either side of her face. One of the birds of paradise, as if recognizing their kin, gives a soft creeing sound.

Levi hadn't seen any of her formal preparations for her "coming of age" ceremony and his breath momentarily catches. His hands slip from the open cage door and a flurry of crimson feathers get in his mouth as the bird escapes, flying straight toward her. Lacie swivels to the side and the bird brushes right past her skirts, sending the silk billowing in its wake.

"What are you doing here, Miss Lacie?" berates Celia, tapping her cane. "You are supposed to be formally announced. Remember what I instructed?"

"Forgive me, Lady Celia." Lacie sticks her lower lip out. "I wanted to let the birds out myself."

"Certainly." Levi gives a little bow away from the cages. One of the birds catches a sleeve and pulls before he can safely get away. Lacie's laughter are like bells on a cold morning.

"Fly, my hearts, fly!" she exclaims, unlatching the cages. Most of the birds don't get the message and continue preening on their perches. "C'mon, shoo, shoo!" Lacie waves her hands from behind the bars, and the birds of paradise spread their wings and leap into the air.

The air is all color and motion, and Lacie is in the center of this splendid madness, holding Celia by the hands to draw the blind woman away from where she thinks the birds fly.

"Lacie, Master Glen, there you are." Oswald raises an arm as a bird nearly crashes into him on its way to join its comrades now congregating in the fruit trees. "I was waiting the last ten minutes in the back corridor for the announcement."

He is dressed as richly as she, as befitting for a Baskerville heir. Deep blue formal jacket cut military-style with silver epaulets. A fitted tail and a subtle knotwork covers the back and shoulders, the same color violet to match his eyes. His trousers matches the jacket and both pieces compliment the white fitted calf-length spats with tiny sapphire beading that thread up one side. As is the fashion, a slight heel to his polished boots lifted his already tall stature. Oswald wears a red sash diagonally as well, and Levi appreciates the fact that it matches his sister's hues perfectly.

"Sorry, brother." Lacies kisses him on the cheek and he extends an arm. She slips hers through and the two siblings make their way out of the draped front entrance into the ballroom where the other Baskervilles and household staff waited to start the proceedings.

"So many birds," he mutters on their way out, "You do realize that the tropical ones tend to have a terrible habit of defecating all over the place..."

"Lady Celia." Levi takes her arm and places it in the crook of his elbow. She smiles up at him (it was a gesture he showed her when they were children, letting her hands press against his face as he laughed and frowned and giggled), and Levi feels the pure joy in her expression.

"You look quite adoring. I cannot help but kiss you," he says softly and brushes his lips against her cheek. He tucks a captured feather into her palm and Celia rubs it appreciatively between her fingers before putting it away in her reticule. They take their places in the hallway and Levi gestures for the chamber orchestra to start the music.

Levi starts with the opening prayers dedicated to the King and Queen, to the Abyss that protects them all, to the Nation and the love the people have toward the Baskerville House. He names the lineage of Baskervilles that had come before him, and the Children who had come before Lacie. This part is an addition the he had penned himself, after some research deep into the memorial alcove.

"...from the dunes came Tinitran, the One Who Lives in the Stars. And then from across the eastern oceans came Leah, the One Who Returns. And finally, from the underground came Lacie, the One Who Sings..."

* * *

"Levi, fetch me that ribbon, please?"

"Which one, Mama?"

"The lavender one."

Levi slipped into her bureau and pulled out a length of silken ribbon. Her mother gave a tut-tut sound and he whirled around so she can pull back his hair. They were by themselves in her quarters putting the final touches on his uniform. Purple and gold and snowy white: his elected colors by the soothsayers who visited the Baskerville estate weeks before.

"The most auspicious according to your birth," they said, which Levi thought to be a bit ridiculous, but Leah was the one who always believed in all of these superstitious things. While his laboratory and study were dedicated to objects of science and physical phenomena, the Tower was catered to his mother's spiritual tastes. Sachets of warding herbs hung from the ceiling. Painted designs for protection and divine inspiration were framed on the walls. The familiar scent of incense and burnt sage hung perpetually in the air, and in every window was a Cross of the Three, which was the official faith of this country.

Given the powerful forces of magic, Levi did not dismiss the magical outright, but Leah seemed to pick up new habits about the greater arts faster than a stray cat picked up fleas.

His mother hummed as she worked, trying back a coil of hair and letting the rest fall back like a tail down his back. This was the song of welcoming she heard from the throat chanters of the steppes, which of course contrasted with the number of buttons she allowed on his vest, and the amount of stones he could wear set in his ears.

"Mama," he said, "My head feels like falling off."

"Don't be silly, they are part of your coming of age ceremony. Every adult wears earrings. You'll get used to it."

"Why can't I have simpler ones like yours or Glen's? Or a set with only one stone each?"

"Amethyst and amber are your lucky gems." Leah crossed her arms and examined him, a hairpin tucked in her teeth. Her own hair was a series of raised loops and curls decorated with a pearl net, and her gown matched the deep color of her eyes. The dress held a train longer than Levi thought was practical, but had the effect of her walking ahead of a ripping pool of blood, giving her a regal but haunting impression that her status as a Child of Misfortune should evoke.

"But I already have the pendant. And I'll get the scepter. And the jeweled circlet. For sakes, I'm going to be an adult, not a king."

"You will be the official heir apparent of the most powerful estate in this country reaching his majority," came a voice from the doorway. "Why not appreciate a bit of pomp for the occasion?" Kahina was in full military uniform bearing the colors of a general in pristine white and gold braiding. A cape of deep red velvet, the mark of her status as a Baskerville, covered her shoulders. By her side was a curved sabre native to her homeland, bedecked with ribbon and braid. In one hand her usual wooden longstaff was replaced by one made of pure gold and topped by a black crystal as large as his fist.

"I brought a gift." Kahina placed an enameled box on the side table that Levi takes. Two small opals lay within.

"Those aren't his colors at all," Leah protested, but Levi appreciated the way the stones turn different hues depending on the light.

"Much like the Abyss." Kahina tapped her own ears and Levi noticed the two-piece cartilage piercing over the ridge of her left ear. A matching opal had a small black chain connecting the gem to its twin on her left earlobe. "All Glens have at least one opal in their outfit."

"See? It's tradition." Levi gratefully unhooked the massive stone earrings in exchange for these lighter ones.

Kahina offered an arm to his mother and nodded to Levi. The three descended.

Levi wasn't one for long ceremonies, and he thought that he would dive right into the garden pond rather than wait for the Cross priest finish up whatever liturgy he had to do. But everyone seemed to move quicker than he anticipated and soon, Kahina was before him, sword in hand, anointing one shoulder than another, before removing her cape and draping it across his shoulders. The Baskerville scepter was put in his hands and the circlet, a simple loop of metal set with more black crystals, was placed on his head.

"Rise, Levi Baskerville, twenty-seventh of your kind, heir apparent to the Glen name." He did and saw Kahina grin as she stood closely to fasten the cape on the epaulets of his jacket.

"I am so proud," she said lowly, and he smiled back at her in return, feeling that perhaps sometimes this pomp was entirely justified.

* * *

"Rise, Lacie Baskerville, twenty-eighth of your kind, the chosen daughter of the Abyss."

Oswald places a simple crown styled to look like entwined silver branches on the top of her head. Around them, the ballroom bursts into applause. Levi stands behind Oswald and offers a matching ring to hang on a scarlet ribbon around her waist. Lacie goes over to the throne carried over from the coronation room to take her seat and accept congratulations from the attendees. Celia had pointed out how improper it was for the Baskerville seat to be taken by Lacie, but Levi also pointed out that since no one in society was in attendance, no one of consequence would mind.

No actual members of society can come to this special "coming of age ceremony," especially since no one but the royal family and the Baskervilles are even aware of her existence. The household guards and castle staff all line up in the ballroom, dressed in their finest. Levi allows the guards to adorn formal wear of their choosing and not military dress or red cloaks, and is surprised to see Fang bearing the heavy furs of his homeland.

"Good man, aren't you sweltering?"

"I don't mind the heat as much as I do the guano. No offense, Your Grace, but I never knew these birds could be so... productive." Maids discreetly make rounds through the ballroom with rags in hand to cover any messes, and the head butler starts trying to wrangle the beasts back to their cages. Birds of paradise, however, prove to be very hard to catch once released, and eventually, a silent compromise is made to stay away from the vicinity of the fruit trees.

Lacie finds this all quite hilarious, and she and Levi snicker throughout the night pointing out avian "gifts" as they come, much to the distress of the head housekeeper.

For the rest of the evening, each castle member offers her flowers for her hair and tiny, jet-colored plumes to hang from the silver circlet at her waist.

Doug gives her two feathers, one black and one gray. "This is from one of the harbor gulls," he explains. "It's thought that keeping one on a string around your neck will bring luck on the journey."

"I'll treasure this, Mr. Doug. Thank you." Lacie ties the leather thong around her neck, and the feathers dip artfully between her breasts. Doug turns away, a slow blush creeping along his cheeks at the location of his gift and Fang and the other Baskerville soldiers joke that Lacie just turned fifteen and it wasn't time for her to gain suitors yet.

Oswald, ever the considerate brother, partners with Lacie for her first waltz and many more men and women take their turns dancing with the beautiful lass, all laughing and smiling at her enthusiasm.

Seeing the two of them sweep across the floor reminds Levi of his own first dance, Leah twirling in his arms. After that dance, he remembers, Kahina took his mother for the rest of the evening and he was stunned to see how well they moved together across the marble floor, the tide of red swirling with the white.

Levi stands in the shade near the back of the room, watching with a bemused smile as all the braids in Lacie's hair slowly became undone during the course of the night. At first, he thinks that the styling hadn't held, until he catches her pale hands flitter about her head as she undid them between dances. Finally, at the end of the night, she comes to him, rosy and breathless from exertion and her long hair a wavy cape of midnight down her back.

"What kind of lady disregards her appearance so?" he tsks, arching an eyebrow.

"They were done too tight," she pouts. "I was getting a headache. Besides," and she grabs both his hands in hers, pulling him out to the center of the room. She spins them around in circles like children at play, her hair a flag unfurling in the breeze of her own momentum. "I may be an adult now, but I'm no lady."


	12. Judgment

_Strange how time passes_ , Levi thought, walking along the path to the Tower, a journey he had made thousands of times before in his lifetime. Each sight brought back memories. In the shade of those flowering dogwood trees he often read aloud to Mama and Celia. By the fishing pond he held the demonstration of his last manned flying contraption (much more sophisticated than his attempt at six years old), only to have the set of perpetual motion wings seize in mid-flight; he crash-landed in the water, scaring away the koi for weeks after.

Here in the clearing, a stab of stone before the Tower marked the memory of the stranger who came to take his mother away. He crouched down, rubbed the dirt between his fingers, and thought of that dead man's body (he was sent to his homeland in pieces, as was traditional Baskerville punishment for criminals.)

He shifted the violin case from one hand to the other and started up the stairs inside.

Nowadays, he spent more time than usual in his mother's company, and often found her gazing at some keepsake from the past. She was in the center room he dubbed "the playroom" for the childhood items that remained there since he was first brought to the Baskerville estate. In the corner stood the crib he had slept in beside a toy box filled with stuffed animals and simple games. A shelf waist-height displayed the series of tiny automaton menagerie creatures. Leah sat in the rocking chair, winding the light-up carousel using a silver key.

He went over, lowered his instrument case and leaned his forearms across the scrolling top of the seat, tipping the chair forward. "Boo!" he greeted and Leah giggled as she tumbled forward, catching herself on the armrests and kicking back on the rockers with her heels. The chair dipped back; she reached up and grabbed his face using both hands. He steadied the chair and smiled down into her eyes.

"Remembering a lullaby?" he asked gently.

She only smiled in return and gave a peck on his forehead. He straightened up and she continued rocking in the chair. "I was thinking about the first few months you, me, and Celia lived here together," she said. "You hated the dark until you could have your lullaby. You called them-"

"-our horsie songs." He chuckled at the memory. He had named each of the carousel animals and made up elaborate stories about them which he whispered to Celia at night in the trundle bed they shared.

"You loved mechanical creatures."

He tapped the heads of the chirping parrot, the dancing tortoise, the cymbal-playing monkey and the jumping hare. "Mister Buckeye, Miss Hatchshell, Lil Gibbons, and Skipperjack."

"I was thinking how you kept the windup keys around your neck..." A small frown. "I looked for them the other day."

"I'm sure they're somewhere."

"Yes, but there are only so many places in this Tower. You had this lovely evening planned and I thought, 'Wouldn't it be charming if Levi could see his Menagerie play again?' But for some reason-" Irritation crossed her brow; she gave a slight shrug and sighed.

"No matter. I hadn't thought about the Menagerie in years."

"Yes..." She gave a slight laugh. "Your silly old mother, worried about the state of your childhood toys." She got up. "You grew up so quickly." She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed; at age twenty-nine, he stood nearly a head taller than her. If one didn't know they were related, they could easily have been mistaken for husband and wife.

The next room over, Celia set up the tea. "My Lady, Your Grace. Ring if you need anything at all." She bobbed her head and the lady-in-waiting tapped her way out of the room. Levi knew Celia wanted to give them as much time together as possible.

"I bought my violin, in case you wanted music."

He poured the tea, offered her the tray of biscuits. They sat on the sofa, knees pressed beside each other like gossiping schoolgirls. Levi joked about his recent trip to the Royal castle ("The King resembles a rather dignified rooster.") Leah shared her thoughts on a performance by a troupe of travelling thespians ("If only the man hadn't hurried to take the poison, but waited for her to wake!") Levi took out his violin and performed a fiddle tune the servants taught him. Leah clapped her hands to the beat and twirled to the music.

Late in the evening, he pulled the silver key from the carousel and they dimmed the gaslamps. A silvery tune flowed and the lights of the carousel glowed as the tiny animals bobbed up and down. They lounged on the rag rug on the stone floor, his head cushioned by the petticoats in her lap. Shadows played along the walls of the former nursery. A melancholy drowsiness enveloped him. The sadness he had masked the entire evening began to seep through like spilled ink upon parchment.

Suddenly a flash caught his eye. "Well, would you look at that." Levi rolled off and crawled to the carousel. On his knees, he peered into the whirling music box and saw that flash again in the carousel's tiny drawn carriage. Before the carriage vanished around the corner, he clicked open the tiny door and removed a small chain with a set of brass keys no longer than two knuckles of his pinkie finger.

"There they are!"

"Marvelous!" She brushed her skirts as she stood.

"Take these." He dropped the keys in her palm and bounced to the balls of his feet.

Together, they wound the Menagerie. Mister Buckeye flapped his wings and squawked. Skipperjack bounded off the shelf and onto the carpet. Miss Hatchback started her slow but steady journey past Lil Gibbons, who slammed his cymbals and got on his rear legs to dance.

Levi took his mother in his arms and lifted her up, whirling her about as the mechanical animals chirped and laughed and jumped. She threw her head back, exposing the creamy dip below her throat. Levi lowered her and she pulled him to the floor.

"I'm glad," she said breathlessly. "What a lucky find." She beamed as Skipperjack leapt over her foot and fell off-kilter to tumble onto his side. "I'd always wonder if those keys hadn't shown up."

Levi lay on his stomach, kicked up his heels and propped his elbows to support his chin. "I would have found them eventually."

"Yes, but it's good I knew tonight."

"Oh Mama."

She reached out and brushed her hand across his cheek. It came away wet. "Never mind, never mind, I'm just a silly old woman."

"You're not silly."  _And you're not old._ Levi balled his fist where the Owl's power lay in his palm. Inside, all four Chains rustled and stirred. They knew what tomorrow brought. The final coronation ceremony. Levi would be given the Jabberwock and become Glen. As his first act as Glen, Levi will send his mother into the Abyss as he had vowed long ago.

His eyelids closed and she kissed one, and then the other.

He swallowed hard. "Tell me." He leaned in close until their foreheads touched. "Do you have any wishes I should know?"

"Levi..." From this close vantage point, her eyes were two deep wine-colored pools, almond-shaped. As a child, he claimed that if they gazed this way long enough, their two eyes would bend into one and they'd become cyclops.

"I am a simple woman. I know this. All I wanted, really, I found here." Their gaze broke. "My life has been rich in luxury and love. I got to grow older. I got to see you become a talented, strong young man and one of the bravest warriors in this whole world. I'm grateful. This is the best possible end I could ask for."

He pulled from her embrace. Levi was reasonable enough to shrug off any lurking fears of self-blame - that if he were never born, she wouldn't had to suffer. Indeed, this life was a blessed one and she was right to have no regrets. Levi knew it wasn't logical, after all these years, but he had to be reassured of one more thing before the end.

"Do I look like my father?"

"Dearest, not a bit." The carousel music chimed to a halt. The gaslamps flickered ablaze once more. She moved her hand from the light toggle on the wall. The strong outline of her head, neck, and shoulders was backlit by the flame. "He had been my darkness. You brought in the light."

* * *

No matter how many times he did this, Levi never got used to the taste of blood. Each black-feathered creature had a different texture. The mixture of Jabberwock's and Kahina's blood was gritty and heated his tongue. Sparks shivered throughout his limbs as the ichor went down.

The final well of emptiness he had nursed for the last three years filled. Suddenly, the floating lights around him flared into little novas of intensity. From far away he heard the sonorous boom of a gate swinging shut and knew it was a seal inside of his soul and his flesh, locking all five Chains inside.

 _"Master,"_  growled the Jabberwock inside his skull.  _"I offer one boon to complete you."_

Levi recalled all of the other gifts the Chains had bestowed him: the Raven gave self-knowledge, the Owl focus, the Dodo perception, the Gryphon decisiveness.

_"What do you offer?"_

_"Passion. And rage."_  A deep grunt.  _"I hold one more secret of Glen."_

Across the ceremonial dais Kahina sat on the Baskerville throne. The years had treated her poorly as each Chain had been removed from her body. She wore the full military regalia, but the red cloak covered her lap as a grannie's blanket. The last time she wore that same suit was on the night of his Coming of Age ceremony, her proud posture filling out the clean lines and sharp angles of the outfit. Now her body had withered, curling in on itself like a fallen leaf in winter.

Seventeen years ago she offered her hand and a promise to be equals. Yet what else had she kept locked away?

"Levi." Kahina lowered the ceremonial dagger and addressed Levi from his supplicant position before her. She extended her wrist and Fang, as the eldest Baskerville, wrapped her slit wrist with a clean cloth and bound it tight. "By the Will of the World, today you shed your old name and gain a new one."

 _"Do you accept?"_  the Jabberwock pressed.

_"Yes."_

Fire scorched his brain. The lights around him burst. Smells of ozone mixed with sulfur filled his lungs. Above, the Jabberwock roared. Around him, Baskerville guards drew their swords. Kahina raised one hand - exposing the bandages around her wrist and forearm, already staining red - and they hesitated.

"Jabberwock," Levi said aloud. The giant beast flapped its wings once, twice. He flourished his arms. The creature was sent back into the Abyss. He gracefully rose to his feet.

"All hail Glen Baskerville. Long may he serve." Kahina's voice boomed in the coronation room. She slammed her longstaff against the ground three times. Around them, everyone knelt. The woman slowly bent each knee - the crunch of collapsing cartilage was distinctly heard - until she, too, bowed before him.

Cries of "Hail! Hail! Hail!" came all around him and went on for many minutes. He never felt so wretched in his life.

"All hail Glen Baskerville."

Leah emerged from the shadows, cloaked in red and white. Her dress was painfully familiar- the same one he had seen years ago in the Abyss. Her skirts bellowed as she took her place before him on the dais.

Fang made a gesture and the chanting stopped. His expression contained much sorrow as he nodded to the three in the center. "Lady Leah, you honor us by your sacrifice. May your memory be kept long among us." He strode over, bowed deeply, and kissed the back of her hand.

He made an about-face to his former superior. "We are honored by your lasting service, Lady Kahina," he said gently, the first time Levi ever heard him say her true name. "May your memory be kept long among us." He gave a salute. Kahina unbuckled the curved sabre around her waist and offered it to him.

 _What did he mean by that?_  Levi wondered as Fang led the rest of the Baskervilles out of the room. The fair-haired Baskerville gave one last look as he swung the doors shut. The sputtering of torches filled the silence. Lingering scents of the Abyss and the Jabberwock's smoke remained.

"Your Grace." For a second, Levi didn't know who was being addressed until Kahina touched his arm. "It's time."

Leah moved forward, kissed his mouth. "I love you." The scent of her jasmine perfume touched his nose, cutting through the sulfur.

She went to Kahina to do the same, whispered something in her ear. She sank to the floor. The red dress pooled around her.

A pasteboard grin crossed Levi's face, because he knew his mother's last memory of him should be his smile. His hand touched the top of her head.

"Leah Baskerville, with my Chains of Conviction I pass Judgment upon you. Your sin is that of being born with the eyes of a Child of Misfortune, which threaten the peace of the Abyss."

Inside his body, the wells of power uncovered one by one. Darkness filled the room. Dull roars and harsh cries filled the air. The temperature plunged as a pool of light formed beneath her. The Chains emerged. From the floor, from the walls, from the ceiling, like the hands of greedy demons.

The smile continued to tug at his lips. He wanted to shout something ridiculous, somehow make her realize the absurdity of it all.

A rush of sound.

And she was gone.

Memories hit: he was a boy again, and the Abyss was collapsing all around them. Five black threads and a blur of red...

"Your Grace, excellent work." She had not moved from her place on the floor. "You demonstrated great fortitude in your judgment. May I petition for your next act as Glen?"

Levi turned to her. He was smart; she always encouraged that. The words came slowly as the Jabberwock whispered its secret.

"Why Lady Kahina, what praise." Laughter burst out. He bent double. He laughed and laughed until his stomach clenched, until his lungs begged for air, until the tears sprang from his eyes.

"Is this your intention? Or, do you excuse this as tradition?" he chortled.

"This is not a plot against you. This is what the Will of the World dictates. The former Glen is always sent into the Abyss for the crime of enabling the protection of the Child."

"And you follow that code as a sheep would? 'Jump,' the Will demands, and you ask ,'How high?'" Levi crouched down to her level. "Don't try to pass this off to me, Lady Kahina, because you know why? It all sounds simply  _hilarious_  how you try to stuff all of your self-righteous jingoism down my throat!"

He slammed a fist against his chest. Tendrils of the Jabberwock's flame seem to flow through his veins as he spoke. "Honor!" Another fist. "Pride!" A third. "Duty! All hail the Abyss and off we go to dieeee-aaaaiii. No," he pointed a finger at her immobile expression, and his gaze darkened, "I won't let you go that easily, my Lady. You will suffer, just as I have suffered knowing those I love behave like sheep. I will not send you to your death. I want to keep you here in this world and when your body turns to bones, I will go to the desert myself and throw them upon the dunes." A slow grin. "You never owed me more than what you duty obligated, but I will grant you the freedom you always desired."

Kahina stared at him through half-lidded eyes. "I never thought I mentored such a presumptuous little brat," she said steadily, the strength of her tone betraying the weakness of her body. "To think that you, of all people, would reduce himself to petty personal convictions over the greater good."

"No, no, no, my Lady, you are wrong." Levi met her eye-to-eye. "This is for the greater good. If you taught me anything, it is how to play the long game."

"Long game? Ha! Your Grace, give me a warrior's due. Judge me for being inadequate," she demanded. "Every moment I made you angry. Every moment you thought I had failed you and failed her. Tell me, do you not feel the need to judge?"

"I do," Levi whispered. He held her face in his hands in the gentlest way possible. "I judge the Will of the World."

"Blasphemy." Her dark eyes narrowed. "Kill this body and drop it into the Gate."

His hands lowered and tightened over her windpipe as he hunched over her. The loyalty pledge. Her last command.

She didn't struggle, but her hands gripped the front of his jacket as her legs spasmed beneath him. Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing the natural instinct to bulge as her airway was cut off.

 _"Damn you,"_  Levi cursed,  _"damn you, damn you…."_  He pressed tighter over her frail throat until her eyes flicked open. Fingers like claws latched onto his lapels, twisting and pulling him close until their foreheads touched. Levi felt the sickening weight of him crush her into silence, stared into her eyes as the glint within them faded.

After the former Baskerville leader grew still, Levi closed her eyelids, wiped the tears he shed from her cheeks, and carried the body to the Gate.

Half an hour later, Fang opened the coronation room doors again to see him sitting cross-wise on the throne, legs dangling over one armrest. Kahina's staff was broken into two, and he waved the splintered pieces like a baton, singing at the top of his lungs:

_"Long live the King!  
_ _Long live the King!  
_ _Let the Gods be praised,  
_ _To the end of our days.  
_ _And loooooong live the King!"_


	13. The Agreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translation of "A Recollection of Black and Gold, by Evil B" is by lilyginnyblack and taken from the short story in Caucus Race 3, "The Story of Thresholds: A Promise Lost."

A child crying. The sound echoes into the dim. Everything is nebulous and distant as he stirs into awareness. A greyish cast envelopes everything in his vision ( _do I see? where am I? who is the child?_ ). Heaviness weighs down his limbs. A hand ( _a real hand? my real body?_ ) reaches out. Pushing forward feels as difficult as struggling in the deep sea. Pressure from all around, clamping down upon his very thoughts. The boy's wailing is a beacon, calling him to the surface of... of what...?

_Oswald-?_

Who is that? Someone important to him, once, long ago... someone he has to reach because... he did terrible things... Oswald won't forgive him...

His hand bursts from the waters of consciousness ( _whose? mine? his?_ ) and for the first time in decades, he lives. Not truly living, for he is aware at least of being dead for many years, but living enough in this limbo.

Slowly, the memories coalesce solid enough for him to remember.

_Levi. I am Levi Baskerville, the twenty-seventh of my kind... but what is my kind...?_

"Momma..."

The boy sits amidst the waters, hands balled into fists over his face.

"Oswald," says Levi.

"Huh?" The boy looks up. His hair is a flyaway mess of black tangled locks that cover his eyes. He glances fearfully around. "Who said that?"

"Are you-?" Levi crouches down, tilts his head to the side. "Your hair..." Abruptly, he lifts the boy's fringe and sees his flushed, tear-stained face, and a pair of two extraordinary eyes.

_The lights, the Abyss. A whirl of noise and snap of the Foundations and the roar of giant Chains and the world is shaking-_

"Oh." Levi blinks. "Sorry. You're not who I expected."

The boy flinches. "Who are you?" the boy exclaims. "No, go away, please go, I said I didn't want to hear you again!"

"Me? I think you must be mistaken." Levi tries to recall when is the last time he had spoken, but can't. To compensate, he smiles. "You shouldn't be so rude to your elders."

The boy has his hands on either side of his head. "I'm not listening, not listening, not listening..."

"To who? Me?"

"The voices!" says the boy. "You are not real!" He glares at Levi viciously, stands up, extends a blocking palm before him. "Momma told me the voices aren't real. Stop it!"

"I don't know who your mother is, but I can reassure you I'm quite real. I think." Levi crosses his arms.

"She said only sick people hear voices, and now-" The boy collapses. Ripples form where his knees hit the ground. "She's dead," he says blankly, and tears well up again.

"Who's dead?"

"My mother." He sniffs.

"Such a sad thing, to lose your mother." Levi sits cross-legged, wrapping his shawl over his shoulders. "I can emphasize." He looks around. "This isn't the material world, is it?"

Around him, he notices tattered bits of light outlining figures of other people. Murmurs from them draw his attention and he blinks in surprise. This feeling is so familiar. Gathering the Council. The thump of a longstaff echoes in the air.

"No!" Instantly, the resurrection of the others stop. Panting, the boy lowers his raised palm and then, in a composer's flourish, cuts his hand sideways through the air. Around him, the half-formed ghosts shatter into pieces. Levi braces himself for extinction and finds himself still there. He regards the youth in a new light, since he is clearly nearing the end of his rope from grief. Perhaps this boy is begging for sympathy, even from a shade like him.

The boy slaps his flat hand against the waters, splashing up angry droplets. "This is all in my head. You don't deserve to be here!"

"And who is here?"

"Promise you'll leave me alone if I tell you."

"I'm not good at that sort of thing." Levi shrugs. "But I can try."

"Leo."

"Just Leo?"

"Yeah." He begins to chuckle. "Great. Now I'm talking to the voices. No wonder those men are coming."

"Who?"

"Some nobles. They said that a Chain killed my mother. Or that she got into a bar fight between some drunks and then somehow, a Chain showed up. Or..." He buries his head in his arms. "It's all my fault."

"How?"

"She... needed to work late at the tavern. There was a book I wanted and she said since it'll be my birthday soon she could get some extra hours in and..." At the tail-end of his sentence, his shoulders start to shake.

"Oh my." Levi drapes his shawl over the boy. "What a shame."

"Stop that!" Leo snaps, throwing off the cloth. "I don't need pity from you of all things. Go away!"

"Well now." Levi lifts his hands and notices his fingers beginning to dissolve.  _All that's left of me is a pale reflection of my former self_ , he thinks, frowning.  _Living inside a poor child._  "My regrets about your loss," he manages to say as he feels the rest of his personality fading into mist. "Reading had always been my greatest distraction from sadness. I have a personal recommendation for you..."

Then, his voice turns to nothing. A wall rises before his awareness and all becomes black.

* * *

Soon after Lacie's Coming of Age ceremony, Lacie's clandestine visits outside of the castle increased exponentially, and she'd be gone for hours and sometimes days before any of the Baskervilles could find her. Oswald grew distracted and angry with every departure. Levi excused her antics as "learning experiences," but Oswald retorted, "It's bad enough that Lacie thinks herself able to move about unchaperoned in mixed society, without the very fact her existence is supposed to be a secret from the world at large."

Each time Lacie returned, it was usually by carriage in the company of a different gentleman or lady. No two carriages ever bore the same house crest. That night, after receiving a berating comment or lecture from her older brother, Lacie always ended up in Levi's rooms, sprawled upon his couch and chatting over a cup of tea about her latest fascination.

"He's a philosopher from the far east and believes the Abyss is only a fairy tale. I told him I've been inside the Abyss loads of times, but it's nothing like the stories he told. He's absolutely beside himself for an audience with you," she would laugh. Or, another time, she gossiped, "The Marquise wants me to be present at her next society ball. She's bringing in a whole flock of blue swans from her estate for the holiday, and every person there gets to have a feather. It's her way of making sure everyone has a sweetheart. Isn't that nice?"

None of these infatuations lasted more than a few weeks. After, all talk of her new companion ceased and soon, Lacie vanished again to chase another stranger.

For every story, Levi questioned her about what she thought of these people, what they thought about various issues, where they came from. "What does it matter as long as they're amusing?" she'd scoff.

"What a wicked little heart you have. Everyone has a gift they offer and a valid perspective." Levi gathered Lacie in his arms to kiss the location of that cold heart. "This is a cruel and beautiful world. The least you can do is see it from every angle."

One rainy night, Lacie came in sopping wet and alone from the estate gates. She wore nothing but a long chemise; the curve of her bare breasts showed against the fabric. The two siblings had a shouting match that ended when the young woman ran into the Tower and blockaded anyone else from entering.

The Baskerville heir stormed into his study. "Master Glen, Lacie's behavior is becoming increasingly dangerous! I beg you, you must exert some sort of control." Oswald slammed his fist down on the desk. Droplets of rain soaked through several manuscript pages Levi had stacked there.

"Oswald, you can't tame your sister's free spirit." Levi shooed his hand off and grabbed the pages, flapping them quickly so they'd dry. "I swear we've spent many times together talking about her dalliances."

"Well, it is one thing to dally off with some backwater noble who's satisfied by enough money or favors to forget ever having met her. It's another for her to ruin herself through these situations."

"Ruined? You think it's gone that far?" Levi mused, twirling the stem of his quill between his thumb and forefinger. He wondered about the agreement she made years ago. The thought of an outside lover was not out of the question. The only requirement Levi prescribed was that she be willing to carry a child before she was dropped. The parentage of said child never became much of a factor, and now and then, she indicated that her decision about the father was not yet made.

"She came back nearly naked this time around! I won't have her... be taken advantage of in such a way."

"What do you suggest at least?" Levi propped his chin in his hands and gave an enigmatic smile. "As a precautionary measure?"

* * *

"Lacie, darling, you must care for your well-being," Levi told her later that evening. "Your brother is concerned about the results of your behavior."

"Oswald is always a fussy one." She was wrapped in a robe, and from what Levi could tell, nothing else. "I think he's jealous I get to have all the fun." She leaned her head on the pillows of the chaise lounge she reclined on. He saw the soft pillar of her neck and the sharp outline of her collarbones where the folds of the robe parted. "No one can kill me. I fear nothing."

"There are other ways of suffering than death." Levi sided up to her on the couch, hung an arm along its curved top. "You need protection."

Her head snapped up. "I always use protection.  _You_  taught me such ways."

"That was to ensure you don't fast-track our plans. Unless you intend to." An arched eyebrow. She threw a pillow at his head.

"In all seriousness, people can act in vicious ways. Oswald - and I too - don't want to see you misused against your will."

A faded smile graced her features, making Lacie seem twice her years. "Since when did my will ever truly matter?"

"The world depends on it." Levi stroked her cheek. "I want you to be safe and happy. Not to throw yourself every which way because you think it is all you deserve." He shifted position. "It's high time you contracted your own Chain."

She straightened up. "My own?" Those red eyes sparkled.

"This is not customary for Children of Misfortune, but who's to say we can't break tradition in this matter?"

"Oh, Glen!" She threw her skinny arms around his waist. He placed his chin on the top of her head. Such fire!

* * *

_"Levi, what do you intend?"_

Levi lifted his head. That voice was familiar...

"Master Glen?" Oswald touched his arm, bringing him to the present moment. The two of them stood before the Gate to the Abyss. Anxiety crossed the young man's face. "It's been a dreadfully long while."

"Contracting a Chain is a process unique to every Baskerville. Well, except for Glen, of course." Levi saw the Oswald check his pocketwatch and added, "You know time works differently inside. Lacie probably doesn't realize how much has passed."

"Ten minutes." Oswald snapped the timekeeping device closed. "We shall give her ten more minutes and then-"

"Pluck her out like a wayward child? Believe me, when the Chain has found her, she'll emerge fast enough."

Contracting Chains was, above all else, a partnership negotiated between the Baskerville and the Chain. These beings of the Abyss are drawn to the deepest wishes lodged in each Baskerville heart, and no being lightly chose its Contractor. Neither Levi nor Oswald had any personal experience to attest to this, since the power of their destined black-feathered Chains prevented them from contracting any more. Levi, however, had watched the recruiting ceremony for the guard numerous times since he was a boy (Kahina always made him attend for her soldiers).

"Sometimes, a person may be in there for an entire evening. Allotting Lacie a mere hour is nothing in terms of actually gaining-"

A movement from within.

_"Levi, what do you intend for this Child?"_

Was it his conscience acting up again? Levi shook his head. He was good at self-compartmentalization, surely, but he swore this voice was not his own. He pictured a figure in his mind, bearing a staff and thumping it - once, twice, three times.

Suddenly, one voice after another echoed in his mind.

_"Levi Baskerville, you shall be judged."_

_"Levi Baskerville, you pose a threat to the Abyss."_

_"Levi Baskerville, we cannot allow this."_

Levi's legs gave out on him. He toppled clumsily to the ground.

"Master Glen!" Oswald's arms gripped him. Quickly, the landing and the Gate faded from his vision. The last thing he consciously viewed was Oswald's alarmed expression and behind him, a woman outlined in the mists of the Abyss. Her dark hair hovered behind her as a majestic cape of night. The glow of her red eyes contrasted with the silver Chains emerging from her shoulders-

* * *

"Levi, you fool."

The banging seemed to smash the entire interior of his skull. Levi curled up on his side and his eyes snapped open. Men and women surrounded him, each made up of shards of glowing light. The pieces shifted and turned from pale to opaque to human. These faces, all too familiar from their portraits in the memorial alcove.

"Glen," he whispered. Two of his predecessors grabbed each arm and dragged him to his feet. The Jabberwock's secret resurfaced from his memories, and he looked for the one person he tried to separate from this massive council of shades.

Despite his confusion, his curiosity prevailed as he surveyed the limbo around him. "Are we in another realm?"

"We are in your soul, Levi, where we have always dwelled," said the same voice.

"Kahina, welcome back. You haven't changed a bit."

The last Baskerville Duchess was dressed in her favorite rust-orange frockcoat, smooth tan breeches, and tall military boots. The curved sword hung by her side and the staff, unlike the broken pieces that hung in his library, was whole in her hands. She looked much younger than he remembered her being-perhaps this was Kahina when she was newly anointed as the leader of the Baskervilles. This was the first time he had seen her since he banished her voice from haunting him ever again, after his coronation ceremony as Glen Baskerville.

He tried stepping forward - to embrace her or to attack her he couldn't be sure - but his arms were restrained behind him.

"I thought we wouldn't have come to this point," Kahina said. Her expression contained that same guarded stillness she always used while issuing her edicts - the commander's glare, he called it.

"I thought you wanted to be free than corralled." As always, when confronted by uncertainty, Levi bared his teeth in a challenger's grin.

"Are you still angry over our last living conversation?"

"Conversation? You used me to kill you."

"You did your duty, as I did mine." Her eyes softened. "I forgive you for misunderstanding the purpose of my body's death."

"Y'know, I always thought it was rather romantic you wanted to die the same time as Mama. A star-crossed gesture she would've cried over." The grin turned dark. "Or maybe you're so hung up on acting according to script, you didn't think about how interesting things would be if the last Glen remains alive and in control of the new Glen. Even if that last Glen's body is falling to pieces, they'd finally be released from the obligation of the black-feathered Chains and technically no longer be a Baskerville anymore. And having that much power, even if only for a short while... well, anything can happen, eh?"

The grip tightened over his arms, though he did not struggle. "Hear that? Maybe I should wake up and tell Jury I saw through that ceremonial pretense."

"At this point, your very liberty is up for debate." Kahina sighed. "The Council of Glen has assembled to reprimand you. Your decisions - especially the treatment of your Child of Misfortune - will only lead to disaster."

"You've been watching me this whole time? My my, don't I feel special."

"Please don't make light of this situation. I beg you, I've tried my hardest to prevent this decision."

"What?"

A second voice, a male one, came from the Council. "In the event that the current Glen proves to be judged incapable of carrying out their duties, a past Glen may be chosen to act in their stead."

"Which of you has that pleasure?" But he didn't need to ask.

"I will do my best to honor your memory," she whispered.

"And where will I go?"

"With us," said that other Glen. "For the rest of your natural life, your consciousness will be imprisoned by the Council. Once your body dies, we will make a decision on whether you are fit to join as a voting member."

Levi gave the crowd a cold stare. This was absurd, all of this. "What democracy lies in my soul. And a punishment worse than hell." His captors began pushing him down. Levi's feet sank into the dark waters below. Pressure sank into his legs. He kicked out. A flash of fear hit when he lost all sensation as his mental body disappeared.

His former mentor gave a deep bow as he sank. "I never wanted to see you fall," she murmured and began to walk away toward the forefront of his mind.

"Kahina, please!" He struggled, broke the hold over him, and elbowed the shade in the torso. A grunt and the figure bent over ( _ah, so they feel pain here... fascinating_ ) and he punched the other Glen between the legs. The two Glens down, he tried pulling himself out of the translucent mire. More and more Glens surrounded him, hands everywhere, shoving him into the waters, which curled and frothed at his rebellion.

"You can't fool them! Lacie, Oswald, they'll know. They'll know!"

The surface loomed closer and closer.  _Like falling into the Void_ , he thought, the childhood terror crushing any more resistance as his consciousness was subsumed.  _Falling, falling, falling forever..._

* * *

"Lacie, show me again."

"Sure, Glen." The bladed chains lashed out fast as quicksilver, dividing the combat dummies in a series of several swift blows. Dummy heads and arms tumbled to the ground, sending the straw stuffing everywhere. The effect was deadly and instantaneous, and Lacie beamed as she whirled to face the man. "Isn't that amazing?"

"Quite marvelous, darling." Levi sat, one knee propped over the top of the other, sipping a goblet of wine. "Has the Chain told you its name?"

"I don't think it has a name yet." Lacie grabbed a second goblet and poured herself a glass. She was immensely satisfied at having her own Chain to command. Growing up as an outlier in the noble household, any quality that she gained which aligned her more with her fellow Baskervilles made her feel content. Not that she necessarily wanted to  _belong_ , the teenager thought, but she hated to be considered a black sheep on  _all_  levels.

She took a sip. "Want me to tell you the truth?"

"Always. There can be no secrets between us."

"I didn't wait for a Chain to read my heart. Instead, I asked the Core to build me one."

"Really?" Lacie noticed a chill seep in Levi's demeanor. So rare did he actually show disapproval toward her actions, she quickly added, "I know I promised not to talk to the Core anymore, Glen, but I didn't know which Chain would come, so I thought the Core could help."

"Did it?"

"Yes. The Core said it can grant me any wish I wanted. I didn't know, truly, so I told the Core to see my heart and give me a Chain it thinks would fit."

"The  _Core_  made  _you_  a Chain?" Levi stopped cradling his goblet and put it down on the marble tabletop. The stiffness of the motion increased the odd tension in the courtyard. Lacie expected Levi to lean forward and revel in all sorts of speculation. She was only telling him because she was able to do things in the Abyss that Oswald and the others haven't even imagined. Wouldn't he be proud of her for that?

"Lacie, what exactly did the Core create?"

"A special Chain. It said my deepest wish was to be the Core's friend forever. Maybe, with this Chain, we can."

"How?" The word came out ice-cold. Lacie furrowed her brow.

"Glen, are you angry at me?"

"No, no. I... I only never thought this was possible..." He ran a hand through his hair -- such an off-putting gesture -- and uncrossed his legs. "I'll have to conduct some more field experiments, because I have this interesting idea behind the Core."

"No, you're angry. I can tell."

"Really?" A typical half-grin crossed Levi's face, but it sent shivers down Lacie's back. When she emerged from the Gate with her Chain a week ago, she found Oswald sending for help and Levi prone on the ground. The older man's health hadn't been as strong since Oswald acquired the Dodo, giving her brother three chains. The Baskerville leader sometimes complained, "This old house will be in shambles before the end," but that was the first time they saw him pass out.

Upon coming to a few hours later, Levi had joked, "Seeing you gave me a heart attack, Lacie," but there was something... not right about Glen Baskerville in a way she couldn't precisely put her finger on. This latest meeting seemed to sum up all of Lacie's discomforts for the past week: how Levi held his glass at suppertime; the way he looked at her sometimes, as if they were strangers; the moments where the natural jovial quality of his voice became strained.

"Do you regret letting me get a Chain?"

"I thought you'd find a harmless one," he admitted.

"You wanted one that'd protect me." What was he doing saying the complete opposite? Lacie rose from the bench. "You think I can't handle it?"

"I wanted you to stop acting out." A cold laugh. "Maybe with a proper Chain you'd feel more like a Baskerville and finally learn how to behave like one."

She stepped back. "You've been acting weird since your collapse, Glen. What happened?"

"Nothing. Now you're the presumptuous one, young lady."

"I'm no lady. You never say that." She frowned.

"What? A fellow can't say new things now and again?" A carefree chuckle of his, except suddenly more unsettling because Lacie felt this was not the same person making it.

 _Impossible!_  she thought.  _No, not impossible._ As Levi would say, she needed to look at this situation from every angle.

Oswald once told her the bodies of former Glens became Chains. She asked what happened to their souls and Oswald simply replied, "They remain."

"You," she said, slowly. "You're not the Glen I know, are you?"

The grin turned to daggers. "Child, do not walk this path."

The glint of silver and a spear-headed Chain stopped its point at the man's jugular. "Bring him back," she growled.

The stranger gave a half-lidded glare. "Lacie, I can't. It's not allowed."

"What did you do to him? What did you do to _Levi_?" For once, she dropped the pretense of his title; she had known for years what his true name was. Lacie pressed a finger into the center of the man's chest. "I swear I will cut you down if you hurt him."

"This body does not matter," Not-Levi said coolly. "Destroy it and the remaining Chains will only have to be transferred immediately. Not how the proper ceremony should be, but we'll make do."

"I'll destroy more than this body." The Chain retracted and swept across the sky. Not-Levi's eyes widened as the links cut through this reality and into the next. The spear-head clinked against a Foundation. The low hum these chains emitted made the whole world vibrate.

"It can't be," Not-Levi whispered.

"This is the true power of this Chain," Lacie said in a steely voice. "If this world falls into the Void, it would stop spreading and I can be the Core's best friend in the Abyss forever. Now," she fisted the front lapels of the man's coat in her hand, " _bring my Glen back._ "

* * *

"Why, that was quick," Levi commented seeing the Council's faces once more as he was pulled from the imprisoning waters. He beamed. "Who figured it out first?"

The eldest male Glen snapped, "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"She is a danger, she should be dropped now!"

"Lacie Baskerville threatens the entire universe!"

"Levi, your Child." Kahina pushed her way past her fellow Glens. "Your impossible Child-!" She punched Levi in the face. His head snapped backwards ( _yes, theory confirmed: one can definitely feel pain in this realm_ ) and he stumbled, holding his jaw. Kahina made to give a follow-up blow but various Glens restrained her.

A low laugh escaped his lips. "What did my darling do?"

"Her Chain," Kahina growled. "Her Chain can destroy other Chains. The Foundation ones. The Core made this for her!"

"Oh..." Levi put a finger to his chin. "Incredible."

"You idiot! Never in my thoughts did I imagine-!"

"Did my Lacie hold the world hostage until I was freed?"

"Your Lacie will die tonight. You and Oswald have to drag her down into the Void together."

"Not doing it." Levi raised both hands up. "Besides, whether it is me or a puppet-me ordering this to happen, Lacie will not react kindly to having her life cut shorter than it already is." A rueful smirk.

"You think we're at a stalemate?" Kahina asked. "Do you propose that we let the fate of an unstable universe fall into the hands of an already unstable and wild girl?"

Other Glens chipped in.

"It's against everything we stand for!"

"Jury will not be pleased."

"She can't avoid being dropped forever. The Void will eat itself alive and take us all with it."

The clamor rose to a fever pitch. Levi raised up his arms and shouted, "Friends, Glens, and fellow countrymen, lend me your ears! I propose a compromise." The hubbub died down.

"Lady Kahina says we're at a stalemate. But I propose a solution. Not the best, but the best one we have." He adjusted the shawl around his shoulders. "Let me keep control of my body and will for the rest of my natural life. I promise to continue to perform all of my duties as Glen Baskerville until the very end. In exchange, allow my experiment to continue."

"Which is?" asked a Glen.

"Let's call it an experiment of free will. Let me teach my dear Lacie all there is to know of in the world, good and evil. What people are capable of and the truth of reality. Giving her all of this knowledge, I will grant her the choice when she is to be dropped: to destroy herself to save the world, or to destroy the world to save herself." A loud protest filled the air. "Wait, wait. Either way, what option do we have? We are under the threat of Lacie wrecking everything on a whim. Wouldn't it be in our best interest to see if she can at least hold off until all of my Chains are transferred to Oswald?" A pause. "In the spirit of the Council, shall we have a vote?"

Despite hearing further complaints around them, Kahina raised her staff. "I second the call for a vote."

"And I third!" said the male Glen who had first spoken.

"Let's have it. Vote for 'Yea' in favor of my proposal, stand and be counted." The tally was quickly made. "And against?"

The shuffle of feet as people lowered to the ground. A few remained standing. Kahina looked down at Levi from his sitting position at her feet.

"Democracy wins out today it seems." Levi gestured to the number of Glens sitting around him. "Let this be our agreement, Lady Kahina. Do not interfere further in my life and how I raise my children. I will serve as an impeccable Glen, and at the very end, we shall see the outcome of this experiment."

She spat on him. "This whole situation stinks worse than carrion. Either the Core gets the chance at a physical vessel, or the whole universe ends." She turned around. "I treated you as I would have my own son," she said bitterly, "and this is how you repay me?"

"Don't pretend to be my mother," Levi replied. He wiped her spit from his cheek using a corner of his shawl. "I already had one of those, and look what happened."

* * *

In the House of Fianna, there is a library. Oftentimes in the library, a boy with tousled hair reads. He usually sits on the wooden floor, or lays there on his stomach, books piled all around him. His name is Leo (just Leo) and he likes reading because it makes him forget all of the horrors in his life.

Currently, he is reading a series of heroic adventure tales which suits both his taste for blood and gore and a twist of cynicism in his young soul (in a couple of years Leo will make a friend who will introduce him to a more uplifting heroic adventure series called  _Holy Knight_.) The last book in this series, however, is called  _A Recollection of Black and Gold_  by Evil B, and the story begins like this:

_The two confronted each other on the battlefield, in which countless corpses had fallen, and in which a linear river of blood now flowed through. All of those corpses had given their life and conviction to either Caldwell or Walter. They had all been soldiers who had died a noble death._

_The weight of countless souls already rested upon the shoulders of both men, and therefore, neither could pull back the swords that rested in their hands. These two, who hated each other more than anyone, and yet, understood each other better than anyone, no longer had any compromises._

_One who was trying to advance the age, and one was trying to stop him. Only the swords they both possessed would decide which path would be left._

_The sun sank. The night arrived._

_Which one was it who uttered the final words?_

_"I thought we could have been friends."_

* * *

**_The Book of Levi; And Other Fantastic Fairy Tales_  will continue on February 1st, 2015.  
**

**Check out story art, fanmixes & more at the-book-of-levi on tumblr**

**Your reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	14. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The conversation Oswald recalls in his flashback is related to a previously published drabble I wrote on Ao3 titled "Sheep".

 

_Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack._

The sounds of the loom breaks the silence of the small cottage where Celia Baskerville lives. Oswald smells the familiar scents of lanolin, smoky wood, and the slightly sour smell of the dying barrels she keeps behind the cottage where she and her personal handmaiden experiment with new colors.

The maid greets Oswald at the door, offers him tea while she announces him to Lady Celia. He sits on a low ottoman, surveying the piles of wool surrounding him in a rainbow of fluffy clouds. Her reputation as a master weaver is well-known, and as long as he can remember, her crafts had been a staple in the Baskerville castle's decoration. Master Glen always wears one of her shawls to keep him warm - the cold bites at him easily nowadays, and he seems much thinner than in years past.

The clacking noises stop and Lady Celia emerges. "My young master," she bows. "What brings you here?"

"Lady Celia, has Lacie stopped in today?" He had his hands folded tight and worries the palms together. Sometimes, Lacie comes in here to find comfort in Lady Celia's company. Both of them were the odd ducks of the household - Lacie for being the Child and Celia for being a permanent outside guest of the Baskervilles. Oswald knows that she was brought into the Baskerville castle as Master Glen's fellow companion, but the circumstances of her relation to the Master was always described simply as "his cousin." Though she and the Baskerville Duke did not share any resemblance, Oswald had never doubted their familial connection. Sometimes, as he had learned, the ties that bind are not through blood but other means.

"Why no. I expected to see her at her birthday banquet this evening. You sound worried."

"No, well, I expected to see her here if nowhere else." Oswald furrows his brow. After a moment, he confesses, "Lacie and I had a disagreement earlier."

"Oh?"

The maid intercedes, entering bearing the tea tray. There is a set of bells she wears attached to one ankle, so Celia can notice her about the cottage. The tea is poured and the maid murmurs, "Enjoy," before her steps tinkle off into the kitchen.

Picking up the cup in both hands, Oswald lets the warmth seep through his gloves. "I said something... inappropriate to her."

He closes his eyes, feeling the flush of embarrassment against his cheeks. The night before, they had been spending an evening practicing for her birthday concerto in his rooms and were resting by the fireplace. She has a tendency of playing with his short hair, claiming to pluck out all of the grey hairs she found (he had a surprising amount, given the fact that Baskervilles usually maintain a certain agelessness).

* * *

He had drifted off into a doze (all these Chains within him were so draining), when she had asked casually: "Do you ever dream of me in pieces, brother?"

"Wha?" Oswald had sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. Sometimes, Lacie got cranky and dour when tired and already the hour had grown so late... He glanced at the mantle clock. "I should get you back to the Tower—"

Lacie tugged at his sleeve, pulling him down beside her on the rug. "Do you care?" she said, letting accusation slip onto her tongue. "Or I am another mindless task you need to get done?"

"What are you talking about?" Oswald snapped. He didn't understand why Lacie was harping on this point, but knew that if he indulged her, she could easy plunge into greater depths or into a flurry of accusations against him. His sister could be quite mercurial. "We'll get in trouble if you're not back by first watch—"

"I don't care if I get in trouble! Yet if that's the only worry you have, then I can take myself to the Tower without you."

"Hold on." Oswald took her arms and tried deciphering the expression on her face.

Oswald read feelings about people easily, but the difficulty lay in the best way to describe the emotions he picked up from others. At times, Lacie had accused him of being "spacey", and the word hurt him, because it implied that he didn't pay attention. Oswald took pains to pay attention always, but the various sensations he picked up from others was usually an incomprehensible mess that he tried to decipher as accurately as possible, and such a painstaking process took time and energy. Oswald admitted that he usually isn't quick on the uptake like Master Glen, or as easily provoked as his sister can be, but at least he tried his best to be as receptive as possible.

He had replied in exasperation. "You can't go yourself."

"Because I'll run away again? Because Glen would scold you for being an irresponsible older brother, for not doing your duty?"

"Well, no, because…" He fumbled with his hands at his knees as he knelt beside her, an adorable gesture if slightly helpless. "I like doing it," he blurted out. "I… I like our routines. Of us saying good-night. By the Tower." He paused. "Does that annoy you?"

Lacie sighed and once again, Oswald felt like a fish out of water, recognizing there was a part of Lacie who both loved him and tolerated him for the type of person he was. Somehow, when she acted that way, Oswald knows there is a part of her he will never understand, and in turn, there will be a part of Lacie he can never help as much as he wants to.

"No," she said and linked her arm in his. "I'm sorry I was cross." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Let's hurry now, before the guards notice."

Usually, when Lacie had her moments of irritation and forgiveness toward him, he passed them off as the typical dynamic of their relationship and was thankful that her moodiness had passed. This time, however, at the Tower, he had chosen to examine this tension further.

"Why did you get upset at me, Lacie? Did I say something wrong?"

Lacie pursed her lips. She could have been amenable, but Oswald knew he had poked a nerve, and for once, he wanted some resolution to this matter than a simple dismissal like she usually did.

"I simply don't understand why you must behave like such a sheep."

"A sheep?"

"Glen says that there are two types of people in this world: those who question and those who don't. Why do you have to fall into the latter?"

"Master Glen tells me that too, you know," he replied slowly, and then added, "If you believe I act like a sheep, why he is not one too?"

"Because he isn't!" Lacie clammed up at that moment and stomped her foot in frustration. "There is a difference between blindly following orders and finding a proper loophole."

Moments like that irritated Oswald like no other. True, Master Glen made a point to do certain things with Lacie and Oswald separately ("Because you are each a unique person with individual needs," he had explained once), but at times, Lacie sounded as if she and Master Glen were both part of a secret cabal no one else could know about. Considering he was the heir to the Baskerville title, whatever matters she and Master Glen engaged in could not compare to his training.

"Lacie," he pointed out, "Whatever I am learning, Master Glen once learned too, and whatever I will do he has done before. Don't say that your idolization of our Master makes him infallible. Or that your responsibilities are greater."

"What are you saying, Oswald?" she hissed, eyes flashing.

Oswald snapped, "In other words, you may think I know less, but at least I take my duties seriously."

Her face flushed in anger and he knew a line had been crossed. "Perfect, big brother," she said. "Good to know you believe that I am treating my future death so flippantly!"

"Lacie, I-" Oswald threw his hands up into the air and said something he would later deeply regret. "You will die, but that means you don't have to deal with the consequences afterward!"

The look of horror, pain, and rage quelled any further explanation Oswald had behind his outburst.

"Good night, big brother." Lacie hurried up the Tower stairs and he heard the thud of the doors being slammed.

The next morning, under overcast skies when he showed up to apologize, she was gone.

* * *

Lady Celia clasps his hands when he finishes recounting the night before. "Oswald, you know Miss Lacie is more temperamental the older she gets..."

"That is no excuse for me belittling her plight," Oswald squeezes her hands out of reassurance for himself more than for her. "What I meant was that I'll be in pain knowing she is gone, not that her death is some sort of... hassle." The blush deepens as he admits this. "Lady Celia, why can't I ever understand the full impact of my words before I say them?"

"Young Master, you push yourself too hard." Celia rises and hugs Oswald's head to her chest. He smells the soft honeysuckle she uses as her scent and the warmth of the wool layers she always wears on top of her noble dress. The effect is very homely and comforting. "You are the most considerate young man. I'm not in either of your positions, but I know how terrible it must feel. Your Master Glen suffered tremendously upon the sacrifice of his Child and the death of his predecessor. Now, let's go and find him and set up a search team."

The day Lacie purposefully runs away is during the first snowfall of that winter. Levi visits the Tower carrying a basket filled with roasted chestnuts, honey buns, and hot coffee and tea to drink in celebration of her sixteenth birthday. Unlike name-days and Coming of Age ceremonies, the day of one's birth were private affairs. He had an obligation that Lord Raymond cajoled him into as part of a welcoming committee to a visiting delegation and he wasn't able to arrive at the Tower in the morning as usual.

The sun had already begun to set on the shortened day when he encounters Oswald, much distressed, ordering his personal guard at the soldiers' barracks to depart the estate.

"What's the matter?" He lowers the overflowing basket.

"Lacie ran away."

"Truly ran away?" Levi repeats.

Oswald gives him a stern look. "As if her escapades are conducted with your permission?"

Levi doesn't even bat an eye. "Usually, we have a hunch on where she is. Or at least we find an invitation upon whose estate she ended up at this time around."

"There are no notes or messages from any of the staff. Lacie has truly run away." Grief coats his expression at this statement. "I'm deeply sorry, Master Glen. I told her a horrible thing the night before and it affected her more deeply than I anticipated."

"Oswald, since when could you ever insult a fly, much less your sister?" Levi says, but the expression on his heir's face does not change, only deepens. Levi puts an arm around the young man's shoulders. "We'll find her, I assure you."

"Young Master, Your Grace." Fang approaches with a score of guards. "I'll take a patrol out to the city."

Levi gives a curt nod to his head of security. Ever since the incident with Kahina, a crack of distrust had formed. Due to the man's extensive life, how much did his senior commander know about Glen? That Levi could be gone and someone else in his body? He imagines if Lacie had come to Fang instead of acting independently to free him, Fang would have ignored her concerns and confined her to the Tower for her own "protection..."

"You are dismissed, Mr. Fang," he says coldly.

Fang misinterprets his tone. "I assure you, we will try our best for her speedy return." He gives another short bow and departs.

Oswald watches the men and women leave. "I should go."

"Should you?" Levi asks. "Or should you should let our people do their job?" The youth is strangely still, and then he leaves for the Tower, not answering Levi's question.

Levi catches up with his ward inside as he storms up the stone steps.

"Master Glen," Oswald asks, "am I a sheep?"

"What?"

"Lacie, last night, she accused me of..." He flushes. "She says that my duties are merely route, as opposed to being a freethinker. I don't believe that about myself at all, and yet, her word strikes me as true."

The two of them ascend the Tower and take seats in the parlor room. Littered around them are signs of Lacie: her books and unfinished embroidery hoops and piles of discarded clothing and various knick-knacks she'd picked up from former admirers. Above the mantle-place hung a portrait of the three of them Levi had made the year before (the painter was quite skilled, capturing all three of their personalities as well as their likenesses.)

"Yet how can that be," he continues, "when she presumes you are different than me, yet we both bear the same responsibilities?" He bows his head. "And worse yet, she thinks that I don't recognize how painful it is to lose her as part of that duty she assumes I blindly obey."

Levi ponders for the best way to answer. His gaze rests upon their portrait; above is his grinning face as he pokes at both siblings. Oswald has the look of reluctant patience, while Lacie blocks his probing finger with a hand. She stares straight at the viewer, her red eyes mischievous and her body unbending to Levi's teasing.

"Oswald," he finally says, "each Glen has their own uniqueness. They are the One, the sole guardian of the Abyss, and the person required to make choices no one else can make. The Child of Misfortune, on the other hand, is the Only. Lacie will exist only once, and never again. That is why she is so precious to us. But One and Only are not the same and can never fully understand each other."

He looks out the window at the falling snow. "We may be Baskervilles, but we are still also human. There are bound to be misunderstandings, but as long as we can think for ourselves and reason where our mistakes were made, there can be resolution."

Oswald crosses his arms and also meets his double's expression on the wall. "But will there ever be forgiveness for the likes of us?" Levi knows it is a more deeper question than simple bickering between siblings.

"We can forgive ourselves at least," he answers. "I doubt there is anyone else who can forgive us otherwise."

* * *

"There you are."

Levi stops winding Skipperjack and removes the key. The mechanical rabbit bounds out of his grasp and across the floor, crossing paths with Celia's cane. She pushes the ancient toy aside as she enters their old playroom in the Tower.

"Oswald told me you are staying here until Lacie returns. I told him to go to his rooms and take a rest. Staying up all night fretting won't help anyone. That advice goes for you too."

"I've become unaccustomed to sleeping as of late, Lady Celia." Skipperjack ran into a corner and Levi crawled over and pushed it in another direction. "All sorts of thoughts run through my head."

He sees her kneel on the floor beside him. "Are you yourself?" Concern touches her voice.

"Why must you always ask?"

"Because I'm not sure." Celia feels for the nearest chair and lifts herself into the seat. "If it weren't for Miss Lacie's perception, how long would Lady Kahina have pretended to be you?"

Levi crosses his arms at the mention of her name. He still had nightmares about it six months later. Sinking into the water of his consciousness. Being trapped in a mire from which he cannot escape. Enjoying a moment in the company of Lacie or Oswald, then passing a hallway mirror to see the reflection of a stranger smiling at him. But he won't admit such to anyone, not even Celia.

"The Council will keep its promises," he reasons. He hadn't heard from them since. But knowing that he is constantly being watched, however, drives him mad. He can't focus as he once did and ceased writing his observations about the Abyss. Everything his eyes see, they see, and Levi wants to prevent them from leeching any more information from him.

"Besides which, Kahina was a terrible impersonator. She only lasted a few days." He shudders. How many people would turn a blind eye if the real him disappeared? Oswald would be upset, but the new Glen could easily subdue him using the loyalty pledge. Lacie would be furious, certainly, but would she really destroy the world for him? Is that the change Levi wanted?

"Celia, tell me, when did you realize?"

"I knew the moment you touched me you were not the same." Her voice is patient, used to this question Levi posed one way or another every over week.

He looks at her face. Everyone he ever knew, possibly gone by Lacie's whim. Is this the change he wanted?

"Your Grace, we must talk about Miss Lacie."

"What about her?"

"How can we be sure she can control her power?" Celia is twisting her hands in her lap. "She's run away because of a simple disagreement. What if she is attacked and unleashes her ability? Or is captured and her Chain exploited?"

"She's powerful and intelligent. I trust her to be able to act appropriately." Yet the words sounded empty in his mouth.

"We have to also face the truth. She is a disaster waiting to happen."

"Don't refer to Lacie as a disaster. She is a miracle," he snaps. "And she is human. Having this power does not make her any less of one."

"But humans make mistakes, Your Grace."

Echoes of Kahina's warning stirred from memory.  _"Do you propose that we let the fate of an unstable universe fall into the hands of an already unstable and wild girl?"_

The conversation takes an unexpected turn. "Lady Leah never had a Chain," Celia notes. "I looked into the past histories. None of the Children ever owned a Chain. Do we even know the full extent of Miss Lacie's powers?"

"Who knows?" He lies. After Levi reclaimed his body, he made Lacie vow never to reveal her Chain's true abilities. "In the coming months, perhaps its full abilities will manifest."

Thus, a web of agreements had quickly formed in their lives, with Lacie at the center, and everyone else placed in an exact position where they sensed the threads of truth, yet will never comprehend its entirety. Only the Council knows of their agreement. He and Lacie share their own experiment and the secret of her Chain. Lacie and Celia know the truth of his possession. Fang must realize why Levi is so protective of Oswald, though master and servant will never speak the reason aloud.

Oswald, Levi decides, should know as much as possible for his safety without being driven to act rashly. He must never know how Kahina controlled him. In retrospect, he admits there was validity to Kahina's secretiveness concerning the power of the past Glens. To know watchers monitor your life from inside you is terrifying. For once, Levi feels almost paralyzed into inaction. How much could he do until the Council appears again to restrain him? Would he wake one day inside the spiritual morass forever and another Glen in his body?

Let the Council rise if there be a future need, but he wasn't going to let Oswald put himself in any situation where he would be subjected to their judgment. Ever. Including knowing the truth about Lacie's Chain, and the truth of Levi's experiment with his little sister.

"Maybe granting her a Chain wasn't the best idea."

"We can't turn back time and prevent it," he scoffs. "The best option is to work and move forward toward a new solution."

"Perhaps this solution doesn't lie here."

Levi props his chin up. "What do you propose?"

"One of us in this room can leave anytime. I can lead a investigation elsewhere in the world."

"Celia..." Levi doesn't know what to say.

"It's the most logical proposal, isn't it? Other countries have their stories about the Abyss. Out there could be an answer to healing the Void, or the key to Lacie's new powers, or..." Her voice trails off as she notices Levi's stony silence. "Do you not approve?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Jealousy stabs at Levi, but he pushes the feeling down. Hadn't he always pestered Celia why she did not leave this place? This blind woman, a common foreigner, destined for nothing, wanting for nothing and able to step out of the castle anytime she desired?

"When would your expedition begin?"

"As soon as Lacie returns." Celia shifts in her seat. "I was thinking for a long while about how I could remain... useful, I suppose. Arrangements for everything had been made in advance."

"Oh." Certainly, Levi wasn't the only person skilled in keeping secrets. A more sentimental person would've said, "You're still useful here," but Levi isn't that type of person. His fingers wrap about the ribbon fringe on the shawl he wears, one of his favorites by her. His voice is neutral as he says, "I wish you much luck, then, Lady Celia."

One more person removed from his web. She is untangling herself. Levi feels strangely light by the idea of Celia exploring the world. At the same time, immediately, painfully, he knows that she is his last link to his past who he fully trusts, and without her, he will be on his own.

Skipperjack makes one last turn around the room and stumbles over a wrinkle in the carpet. The mechanical animal falls onto its side, its legs pushing helplessly against the air.

* * *

Later that night, Levi is sleeping on the couch in the playroom, his shawl covering him like a blanket when a hand brushes his cheek. He starts immediately ( _I'm still here, I'm still me_ ) and he sees Lacie in the half-light.

He immediately covers up his surprise using an exaggerated stretch and yawn. "Fancy seeing you."

"I could say the same." She wiggles beneath the shawl; he can feel the goosebumps raised along her uncovered arms and neck from the chill. "Brrrr, it's cold."

"Did you accept his apology?"

"Yes, of course."

"So you already saw him?"

"Oh, I've forgiven him, but I'll let him squirm a little more until morning."

"Lacie," he tsks. "That isn't kind of you. Oswald was in shambles today from guilt."

She pouts. "If he were, then why isn't he in this Tower too?"

"Lacie." Levi's tone is serious.

"Oh, I forgive him, I do! And I  _did_  come to his rooms, but the maid told me that he finally fell asleep and I didn't have the heart to wake him. So instead, I went over to his bed and did this," she kisses him on the nose, "and said, 'You are not a sheep.' Can you guess what he said upon stirring?"

"What?"

"'Baa baa, dear sister.'" She laughs. "Oswald can't help being so adorable sometimes."

"You can be just as adorable."

She exchanges a knowing smile with Levi. He notices something amiss. "Darling," he tucks her hair behind one ear, "seems like you've lost an earring."

"Oh? I guess I must've dropped it somewhere." She shrugs, takes Levi's shawl as she rises, and wraps it around herself while heading to her bedroom. "Doesn't matter."


	15. Unmeasured

The outside world burns, and Levi finds it quite entertaining. Too bad he is the only one able to enjoy the show. Leo, the human mortal and unfortunate successor to Glen's soul, had shown some fire in light of Oswald's latest pursuit to change time. At the moment, however, he watches the other dark-haired Baskerville in a mix of helplessness and confusion.

Oswald had his sword arm flourished in this inner realm and in real life. He uses the boy's body to approach the poor Child of Misfortune, Vincent, as the past remnants of the castle crumbles around them.

Levi never had a chance personally to know this Child, twenty-ninth of his kind. From what he observes from beyond the veil, however, Vincent is quite the catch and a melodramatic nutjob. In theater, the best roles Levi enjoys are the pretty, malcontent anti-heroes, so he finds Vincent to be quite delightful.

The blond man kneels on the ground, clutching his head and sobbing loudly.

"Alas, it looks like you were overwhelmed by memories of the past." Oswald draws his sword. "I'm going to put you out of your misery."

Seeing his own arm lift the blade, Leo suddenly springs to action. He runs toward Oswald once more, shouting, "Glen don't! Don't kill Vincent!"

Oswald tosses him backwards and the boy flies past Levi to hit the ground like a rag doll.

"And then what?" Oswald replies, flourishing his sword arm at the youth. "Even if you stopped me, what alternative could you offer him?" He scowls. "You have no will of your own. You have no goal. What right does someone like you have to stop me?"

 _Are you going to cut Leo? Oh Oswald my boy, you learned from experience,_  Levi thinks. How many times over the years trapped together had Oswald come after Levi, sword in hand, exerting his unquenchable rage as Levi laughed and laughed in return? His joints ached from the memory of being hacked to pieces. The injuries never last, since their souls were bound to this place for all of eternity, and eventually, Levi's spirit would revert to its default state. Oswald's passionate fury, however, never abated.

The white-haired man glances at the boy and decides that Leo does not deserve to suffer such pains in his own soul. He claps his hands together.

"Good! Things are getting interesting." He hovers over the fallen boy like a coach by the boxing ring. "So, Leo, aren't you going to answer back?" Levi's eye remains upon Oswald in a casual manner, waiting to see if his child would do anything else to hurt either of them.

Oswald strides forward and raises both hands. The murky waters of consciousness stir around him and rise up in a whirlwind of his own anger. The wall of wind and emotion swirl around the young man, creating an effective spiritual barrier.

Good - Oswald is at least self-possessed enough not to needlessly lash out at others. He turns his attention to Leo once more.

He chuckles. "Didn't your cute servant ask what your wish is? So, how are you going to answer that question?" Levi is surprised to see Leo being so actively concerned with Vincent, who he barely knew before these last few weeks. Leo and Oswald are both sensitive souls; they oppose each other's goals, but are quite similar people.

Leo grimaces in reaction to Levi's goading. "What is it that you find so funny about all this?" The young man's shoulders start to shake. "You were the one who created the Will of the Abyss in the first place! You are responsible for all this, so tell me how can you laugh like that?"

Of course, his experiment. The unseen vessel doomed to be the Will of the Abyss. Bitterness blindsides Levi, cutting through the superficial joy he feels. His Alyss in the underworld, and his other Alice above. Lacie's daughters and he failed them... Sorrow catches in his throat, but he stuffs it deep inside as he grabs Leo by the collar of his shirt.

"Hey," he says lowly,  _"don't answer a question with another question."_

He remembers Leah's voice, telling him he'd understand what a parent must do once he had children of his own. But no, to be honest, he  _never_  understood her words, no matter how much he loved and sacrificed.

His idea of sacrifice isn't the same type of sacrifice Kahina and everyone else seemed to value: they praised the needless destruction of their own lives and afterlives to bolster a corrupt system. In comparison, he sacrificed all of his human connections, dedicated his lifetimes to the cold pursuit of knowledge, and used the greatest inventions he had ever been blessed to create - his own progeny by adoption and by blood - because the need to change the entire world was unmeasurable compared to his own limited desires. In the end, he sacrificed his most precious ideals too.

How  _dare_  this simple boy assume  _Levi_  is a monster?

Yet, since none of his changes worked, perhaps Leo is right. Levi doesn't think he even has any guilt, because at this point, guilt is meaningless.

"How can I laugh like this? Because I'm having fun, isn't it obvious?" He drops his hold on the boy and gives a toothy grin. "Anything will do as long as it distracts me from my boredom."

* * *

Levi hated being late for a performance, and the royal box seats in the Sablier Metropolitan Opera House were not seats offered lightly to anyone. He tapped his foot before the doorway to the Tower, where Lacie had agreed to meet him. Oswald, already there as part of His Majesty's entourage, was probably flicking his pocket watch open and closed as he usually did to express annoyance at the tardiness of his sister and his Duke.

Sometimes, she did get caught up in her travels into the Abyss and would need a gentle prodding to bring her back to reality. He sighed, climbed the steps and entered the front foyer.

"Oh, Mr. Fang, I never knew."

"Forgive me, My Lady. I never meant to be this open about such a personal matter."

The two voices stopped Levi in his tracks. He peered around the corner into the parlor to see Lacie sitting beside his former security advisor, their heads bent together as they spoke. She had her hands clasped in his like a lover would, and Levi's eyebrows rose to see the blush cross the larger man's face.

"No, of course not. One should not hold their feelings in check, especially amorous ones," she said. Lacie brushed a lock of bronze-colored hair from Fang's brow and Levi's hands bunched together at the intimate gesture.

Though he and Fang carried out their duties as they had in years past, Levi had slowly edged the eldest Baskerville out of his affairs. Last year when Oswald turned 25, Levi promoted him to head of security and gave Fang the position as the commander of the new recruits, a subordinate role.

"It would do my heir good to gain such responsibilities now he's older," Levi explained then, "Besides, Mr. Fang, after over a hundred and fifty years of loyal service to the Baskerville throne, it's high time you shared your experience with the younger generation."

In truth, the further away Fang was from the center of power, the more assured Levi was that Fang would not try to reinforce any traditional policies inside the castle. Fang knew Levi was ordered to kill Kahina, and he was unapologetic when confronted about it years ago ("The Will has its ways," was the mysterious refrain he used). Levi had no wish to continue such a ritual at the end of his own reign, among other things. Fears over the guardsman snooping too closely upon his experiment with Lacie was another reason Levi wanted to shut Fang out. So seeing the two there, alone, made Levi concerned on more than one level.

In the next room, Fang sighed. "Sometimes, I wake and wonder whether my feelings remain true. I fear admitting the possibility that I am merely in love with an idea."

"Don't you ever think that way!" Lacie embraced the older man.

Immediately, Levi popped his head into the room. "Lacie, my sweet!" he greeted brightly. "Don't we have an engagement tonight?"

"Glen!"

"Your Grace!"

The two of them broke their hug. Fang's blush deepened as he got to his feet and bowed. "My apologizes. You're right. Lady Lacie mentioned a commitment with His Royal Highness and young Master."

"And myself too," Levi said shortly. "Come, come, we mustn't be late. Mr. Fang," he added stiffly, "you should not keep the youngsters waiting for the evening practice drills."

"Certainly, Your Grace." Another bow, and Fang reached to buckle on his sword.

"It's all my fault," Lacie exclaimed. "I invited Mr. Fang over for tea and completely lost the time."

"Why you should have any reason to distract him from his obligations I won't question. But we'll discuss more later." He grabbed Lacie by the arm and she only had a moment to get her hat and her reticule before being nearly dragged down the steps and out of the Tower.

"Glen, we're not  _that_  late, are we?" They rushed into the carriage and Levi shouted for them to depart post-haste. The sudden rush of annoyance and ... sometime else... cooled once Levi and Lacie were alone.

"Oh, you know how your brother gets. I didn't want to make him fret over us any longer." Levi stared out the window.

"Levi," she said softly - only when they were by themselves completely does she say his true name, and it sent pleasurable shivers down his spine. "Mr. Fang confessed something interesting to me this evening."

"Oh?" Levi hoped he would be able to enjoy his show tonight, but he guessed that wasn't in the cards after all. "A confession, eh?" He gave a wry grin. "Tell me, is my old guardsman madly in love with you?"

Lacie frowned. "Love is not a joking matter."

"Really? Says the woman who has had more affairs than I have fingers and toes."

"Don't try to make this about me, Levi. Besides which, those infatuations had not been ones about love."

"Ah yes. My wicked little heart and her entertainment." Somehow, Levi dreaded Lacie speaking anything more about Fang and waved a dismissive hand to her face. "I have some petitions I need to review before seeing His Majesty tonight. There are some political refugees who are requesting asylum in this country now that their civil war is going all pear-shaped." He pulled out a sheaf of papers from the satchel he carried and pretended to immerse himself in reading.

Lacie gave a small "Hrumpf!" and turned to face her own window, lips pursed. The rest of the ride passed in silence.

Within the hour, the carriage pulled up to the front of the opera house, and the footman stepped down to open the carriage door. Levi let Lacie get off first and then took her arm in his as they climbed the steps inside and were announced in the box seats.

Levi bowed to the King and Lacie gave her deepest curtsy. "My Liege," they murmured, before the King bobbed his head and gestured toward their places in the box. A few seats down from the King, Oswald also gave a slight nod to them and guided Lacie over to sit beside him. There was another empty seat and he made a gesture to Levi, but the Duke raised his hand in polite refusal and instead took his position by the King.

"Your Majesty," he began lightly, "Pray tell me this is another one of those southern operettas. Their sheer hamfistedness always makes me crack up."

No, it was not. As the curtain parted and the orchestra started up the music, Levi instantly recognized the piece.  _The Fiddler of Valencia_ , about a pauper who fell in love with a noblewoman and tried to thwart her marriage to a rich Duke. He knew several arias by heart; this was his mother's favorite tragedy.

He hummed the pauper's role under his breath and he tapped out the violin fingering on the plush armrests using his left hand. The last time he had played this music had been over a decade ago and as the opening libretto swelled, bittersweet nostalgia of the evening came to mind.

Leah had a talent for music of all types, but her favorite instrument was the harp. Her fingers strummed the lead soprano's melody so sweetly, and he accompanied on the violin. A vision of a private concert in the library resurfaced as the opera played out below.

His mother, wearing those delicate flowers in her hair and her gloved hands flowing like water over the strings. Levi accompanying in the duet on his violin, the faster notes weaving in and out. Beside him, Fang took out his wooden flute, a woodsman's instrument so old-fashioned that barely anyone recognized the instrument, let alone played it as skillfully as he. Kahina was their only audience member; he remembered distinctly how her tenor complimented the music as she heedlessly sang along as they did, playing their instruments.

Levi shook his head, banishing the memory from his mind and his eye fell on Lacie and Oswald. Oswald must've made a clever comment (he could do that now and again unexpectedly), and she hid her mouth in a giggle. The royal box was situated directly above the stage, so the audience could see them as well as the actors (since royalty should always be seen by the people), and Levi felt the scrutiny of so many eyes he couldn't bypass His Majesty to share in the joke.

As he sat and watched the players beneath him, he pondered his reactions from earlier.  _Why had I acted so annoyed in the carriage?_  Was it because he suspected Lacie harbored feelings toward Fang? She was of age to make a proper decision about her future plans. Perhaps she wanted the old soldier to bear her child. Out of all the choices she had in the world, Fang certainly was worthy. He was a Baskerville, after all, in prime health, and not unhandsome...

The bandages peeked out from beneath his long frock coat sleeves and Levi quickly covered them up. Usually, he didn't mind when they showed, but somehow, seeing them in the wan light made him flinch.

After the performance, the evening grew later as Levi was obligated to stay to the very end and mingle with the guests. He put in a good word with His Majesty about that foreign family's - the Barma House - asylum request. Lacie left hours beforehand with the rest of the minor nobility and ladies-in-waiting, and he was impatient to return to the Baskerville estate.

He arrived home in the small hours of the morning, and despite the hour, he made his way to the Tower. During the entire ride alone, he coached himself on reasons why Fang would be an inappropriate choice to be the sire without giving away that he simply did not trust the man to agree to this plan and might attempt to ruin everything.

"Mr. Fang is a wise and competent member of the household staff," he muttered to himself as he walked up the winding stairwell. "I've known him since my boyhood. He's kindhearted, intelligent, and endlessly loyal to the Baskerville name."

He stopped before the main doorway and instead of barging in as he usually did, his apprehension grew. Levi began pacing the landing, arms crossed, fist propped under his chin. "Surely, Mr. Fang has had a lot of admirers over the decades. There was a time I, too, was attracted to him while discovering my own preferences. Yet, truth be told, I always felt Fang was not the type of person to tryst with anyone, not even a future Duke like I had been and especially not a Child of Misfortune. Nothing against you, my darling, but he is too honorable for that..."

"Levi?"

He froze and dropped his hand. Lacie stood in the threshold, dressed in her nightgown and an overrobe. "Come here, jealous one."

"Oh, well, erm," he fumbled. She took his arm and led him inside.

"Whatever indicated I was jealous of anything?" Levi tossed his head flippantly and suddenly, he found them both in her bedroom. She sat on the plush sheets of the canopy bed and tugged him alongside her. "About Mr. Fang from earlier..."

"Yes, yes about that," and was about to launch into his speech from the beginning when Lacie put a finger to his lips.

"Levi, I know that there has been some distance between you and Mr. Fang for awhile now," she said gently. "In fact, he came to me today to speak about your estrangement."

"Oh?" Levi feared this to be the case. "How exactly did the conversation go?"

"Well, Mr. Fang wanted to bring this up but you always seemed too busy to have this conversation in private. Then, when he got demoted, well, he feared the worst about the relations between you two and had been too embarrassed to try to broach this himself."

"So you are in love with Mr. Fang and the feelings are mutual." Levi gave a long sigh. "I suspected as such, and I know he is quite an attractive fellow-"

"Levi, listen. Don't be jealous of us-"

"There are plenty of other worthy candidates among the staff for our plans-"

"-because I'm not in love with him." She clasped her hand over his mouth to silence him. Her expression softened. "But you've loved him for years, haven't you?"

It was too much. His lips trembled and he snorted. "Bwahahaha!" He fell onto the bed, hands wrapped around his middle. "My gods!" he managed to gasp, staring at Lacie's stunned expression. "Mr. Fang was worried  _I_ was in love with  _him_?"

"Why not? You two had always been close, and then you suddenly acted coldly for no discernible reason. Demoted him. Kicked him out of your personal guard. He told me about one incident when you were younger and feared those feelings had risen up again."

Ah yes. The old memory returned of the private concert, and how Levi caught his mother and Kahina afterward slipping into her rooms in the midst of disrobing. Confused that the Baskerville Duchess and his mother were intimate, he had run straight to Fang's barracks as an escape and that night, Fang had been exceedingly kind and consoling to Levi's unexplainable feelings. ("But Glen is _Glen_! And my mother is... she can't just..."). But that had been years ago, and nothing truly scandalous happened between him and Fang beside a sweet kiss (and that was initiated by Levi more for the feeling of being comforted than anything else).

"And ever since then, well, Mr. Fang noticed you never had a serious romantic relationship of any sort and so he always suspected... Well, you harbored a hidden desire for him but held back because of your rank. And since your time as the Duke is coming to an end, he thought you wanted to distance yourself from all close relations, especially after Lady Celia left." Lacie curled up beside Levi as they lay together on her bed. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Well, well, you can reassure him I never held any interest in the long term. Not to say he was a bad kisser," Levi mused. The weight which hung over him lifted.

"Hmmm." Lacie pressed a hand to his chest and entwined her legs with his. Levi felt the heat of her bare flesh through his trousers and his bandages. "Did you know he once had a wife?"

"Really now?" He rolled on his side to face her. "Mr. Fang never likes talking much about his past."

"He did, centuries ago, before he became a Baskerville. He told me the whole story over our tea today." Lacie reiterated the tale, and Levi finally realized how Fang had gotten those ugly burn scars, and why he always held an interest in the new recruits.

"Do you think his wife had been reincarnated by now?" She wondered.

"Maybe. If this were a fairy tale, perhaps one day she'll show up at our doorstep."

"I thought you weren't a romantic."

"I'm not. But I do sense a good story when I hear one." He switched the conversation to a new subject. "You are right to note my time is growing short. Yours as well. We'll have to consider proper candidates for our experiment very soon, before I transfer my last Chain-"

She kissed him. Not a child's affectionate kiss, nor a hungry lustful one. Her lips, pliable and warm, melded to his, and she sighed into his mouth as if releasing a fragment of her soul into his body. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her, slightly stiff from his medical wrappings, and together they rolled until she pinned him upon the down mattress.

When she finally let go, he gave a little gasp and stared up at her smug expression.

"Am I as good as Mr. Fang?" she teased. She wiggled her hips a bit as she said this and for the first time in a long time, physical desire flushed through his body.

"This is a terrible choice," he said. "This body is falling apart. I'm most likely infertile by now. We shouldn't waste what time we have left."

"Exactly. We should start right away." Another kiss. "You let me find all the partners I wanted when I was younger and angrier," she teased, "but in all seriousness, this is my child, and I want to be sure the father is more than a simple fling."

Her hand slipped down to unbutton his vest and Levi pushed her away. "I'm bandaged in more places than my arms and throat, my dear. Such a poor specimen compared to you." He frowned. "If you are determined to have me sire your child, there are methods of clinical insemination which are much more effective than intercourse-"

"Levi." Lacie bounced her hips playfully and started undoing the front of her own gown instead. "Remember what I said about affairs? This isn't about love." The robe came off, followed by the gown. Levi couldn't help but stare, his jaw slightly agape.

"You've always been my partner in this experiment." She started undressing him once more and this time, he let her. "Why would I trust any other to get the results we need?"


	16. The Fourth Fairy Tale: The Woodsman and the Wolf

For Fang

* * *

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where the trees stood tall and green throughout the year and the mountains existed as old as time, a loyal woodsman tended the King's Forest. This forest was cultivated from the smallest shrub to the the tallest fir. Game animals roamed through the valleys and thickets. Waterfowl of all breeds nested by a lake clearer than crystal.

The woodsman protected them all in the name of the King and led His Majesty and his entourage on a hunt every season. To mark his status, he carried a mighty steel axe. He lived a simple life in a sturdy cabin on the edge of the forest. He found much peace and had some excitement from the thrill of the hunt, but most of the time, he was lonely.

One evening, the woodsman was on a walk when he spotted someone ahead on the path. He approached and saw a young woman lain on the ground, her deep scarlet cloak spread all around her.

"Help me, sir," she begged. "I had been wandering through the forest on my way to my grandmother's house and gotten lost. Then, I had fallen and injured myself."

Indeed, her leg was twisted and lame beneath her. The woodsman touched it gently and she winced in pain. "Sweet lady," he said, "I will take you to my home to rest."

He made to lift her up, when she spotted the axe on his back. "Oh my, what a sharp blade you have," she exclaimed.

"I am the King's woodsman," he replied, "this is the mark of my rank, a blade of the finest steel."

She leaned against him as they returned to his cabin and on the way, he named every tree and plant they passed, and called to the birds that swooped overhead. He only thought to tell her these things because it wasn't often he could show another the beauty of the King's Forest, and pride shown in his voice as he spoke. The young woman seemed quite intrigued, and kept asking him questions about his life. "It is quite peaceful," said the woodsman, "but I'm sure many would find it dull."

"I like peace," said the young woman in a soft voice. She brushed a lock of pale hair, the color of fresh carnations from her brow. "I think you live quite an envious life."

The woodsman shrugged, blushing. Inside the cabin, he tucked her into bed and wrapped her leg. "Thank you, kind woodsman for your help," she said. "My poor grandmother is dreadfully ill, however, and is expecting me."

"Let me attend to her in your stead," he told her. "Tell me where she lives."

"Oh, my grandmother lives over the hills beyond your woods. I was bringing her some wine and cake for her health," said the young woman. "Please, take my basket to her and wear my cloak so she will know you are my messenger."

The woodsman agreed and donned the scarlet cape. Pulling up the hood over his head and taking the basket, he then left for her grandmother's house.

Night soon crept upon the land, but the woodsman was not afraid. This was the King's Forest, and he knew every stone and branch by heart. As he traveled, he could not help but think of the woman's beautiful eyes, the color of roses, and her hair, a shade lighter than that. "She must be a very kind and gentle soul," he thought, "to visit her sick grandmother."

Out of the forest and through the hills, he soon spotted a small cottage he never realized was there before. He knocked on the door and announced himself. "Dear Madam, it is I, the woodsman of the King's Forest. Your granddaughter had fallen and is resting at my home, but she asked that I bring you this wine and cake for your health."

"Oh, my sweet granddaughter," said the voice from within. "How lovely of her to send such a treat. Come in, come in."

The woodsman entered and found the cottage to be quite dark. The fireplace was empty and not even a single candle glowed inside. He lowered his axe and propped it by the door.

"Dear Madam," said he, "your fire has gone out and no candles burn. You must be quite cold."

"Oh no, oh no," said the voice. "I am fine here in this bed and it's quite toasty. Please, woodsman, bring the basket close and let's have some wine and cake."

The woodsman approached the bed and set the basket beside it. By the moonlight, he uncorked the bottle and cut the cake and presented both to the figure nestled within. The grandmother took the bottle and the plate and the woodsman noticed how she seized both using only one hand.

"Dear Madam," said he, "what large hands you have."

"Oh, the better to hold the cake and wine with," chuckled the voice. "Come have some with me in thanks."

The woodsman ate and drank the wine and cake. Soon, drowsiness from the rich food tugged at his senses. Across from him in the bed, the figure gave a contented sigh. The woodsman looked through the window and saw how the full moon had risen. "It is quite late and I should go," he said.

"Oh no, oh no," said the voice. "You look so tired. Please, woodsman, rest here for tonight and leave in the morning."

Usually, the woodsman wouldn't feel comfortable taking such an offer of hospitality, and he wanted very strongly to return home and see if her granddaughter was feeling better. Despite these feelings, however, he agreed he was very tired indeed.

Out of politeness, he gave one last protest. "There isn't a place for me to sleep."

"Climb into bed, kind woodsman," cajoled the voice. "It is warm and large enough for two, I assure you."

The woodsman decided that the grandmother's offer was sincere and it wouldn't hurt to rest his eyes for a wink or two before departing. He slipped into bed and settled beside the grandmother, wrapping the scarlet cape tight about his shoulders. Indeed, the bed was toasty as the voice had said and adorned in soft furs. His eyes drifted slowly, ready to close, but then he noticed the figure in the bed staring at him in the moonlight.

"Dear Madam," said he, "what large eyes you have."

"Oh, the better to see you with," joked the voice. "Especially since you are quite a handsome fellow."

That same rough hand stroked down his jawline. A strange feeling overcame the woodsman and he didn't feel as welcome as he had before. He struggled to rise from the bed, but found that all of his limbs felt weighed down by a million stones. Something had been in the wine and cake, he realized in shock.

The voice whispered and hot breath hit his ear. "I see that my granddaughter had sent me a delightful treat tonight." A pointed snout nudged at his neck and saliva dripped onto his cheek.

"Dear Madam," said he, "what large teeth you have."

"Oh, the better to gobble you up with!" cackled the voice as the figure rose to straddle him. In the full moonlight, the woodsman saw a giant wolf standing over him. The wolf opened her mighty jaws to gobble him whole-

A flash of steel and the wolf fell down dead, the handle of the woodsman's axe sticking out from her neck. The woodsman rolled onto his side and saw, framed in the doorway, the young woman he had saved earlier.

"Young lady," he said, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, kind woodsman!" she gasped. Tears glistened in her eyes. "It was the only way I could be free of the wolf." She fell to her knees and covered her face in shame.

"Please don't cry," said the woodsman, trying to stir feeling inside his limbs. "I see that you are only a gentle soul who had been used badly by the wolf."

"I am no gentle soul!" snapped the young woman, her eyes flashing. "Don't you understand, you fool!" She got to her feet, and the woodsman noticed the lupine way she moved and the glare she gave from the tip of her long nose. "I am kin to this wolf and served her for many years," she said. "She had me leave this cottage with drugged wine and cake. I'd pretend to be hurt to attract passersby, give them my red cloak, and send them here to be eaten."

She went over to the dead wolf and pulled the axe from her neck. Blood, dark red, splashed over her dress, making it red as the scarlet cloak the woodsman wore. "Only when the wolf is struck with pure steel under the light of the full moon, will she die, and I released from her tyranny."

The woodsman recovered enough finally to move on his own. He tumbled from the bed and shook out the rigidness in his limbs. The potion in the food would have incapacitated a normal human being, but the woodsman knew he was far from normal or human. Very much like his rescuer, in fact.

The young woman presented the bloody axe to him. "I am far from innocent, but please let me beg for your forgiveness," she said. "Do what you will for my crime against you." She placed the gore-covered axe in his hands and shut her eyes.

"Oh no, oh no," said the woodsman. He put down the blade and took her in his arms, covering them both in the wolf's blood. "I forgive you, sweet lady, and admire your courage tonight. Please, let's come away from this terrible cottage and rest at my home in the King's Forest."

The young woman stared at the woodsman for a long time. Finally, she smiled. "Let us go."

And so the two returned to the woodsman's cottage, where the wolf's granddaughter and the woodsman remained together as happy as they could be for the rest of their days.


	17. Experimental Factor

"Levi," she whispers conspiratorially inside his bedcovers. She pokes her head out from beneath the duvet. "I met the most amuuuuusing count from the Western Isles last night at Oswald's ball!" Lacie crawls out of the sheets and sprawls herself on his bed, rolling herself in his sheets in a fit of giggles.

Levi, used to indulging her energetic high after meeting one new toy or another, sits at his desk, his manuscript papers spread before him. His publisher expects the final edits due by the end of next week. This is the last book he will ever write, and Levi had been immersed in tweaking these stories and disregarded most other obligations outside of his required duties. That's why Lacie had accompanied Oswald to the lavish gala thrown by the Barma family, the redheaded exiles newly settled in Sablier, as part of the nobles' introduction into this nation's high society.

Rumors are flying about Oswald's mysterious woman by his side at all the social events this season (her time is near, Levi reasons, and she deserves the society she had always craved). Oswald also prefers keeping Lacie as his date, and Levi gently pokes fun at his heir of how Lacie is the best deterrent he has against those pesky nobles who threw themselves at him left and right.

"Entertain me, darling," he says, licking the tip of his quill before putting it to paper and crossing out a bit of needless prose.

"He was absolutely enraptured by me. Called me his dark angel. By the end of the evening, he was begging, simply begging, to whisk me away to his villa as his secret mistress. Oh, wouldn't it be splendid, Levi, to spend some time at a private villa on some beautiful isle?"

"If that is what you require, I'm sure arrangements can be made."

"That is not the best part, however. We took a stroll around the estate afterward." She grips the back of his linen shirt. "He has this way about the type of kisses he gave. And all over! He was quite skilled."

"Let me demonstrate." She starts by teasing her lips on his neck between the hairline and where the bandages begin. Goosebumps run along his flesh and Levi tilts his head forward, reveling in the sensation, before sighing and rolling his shoulders back to deter her ministrations.

"Lacie, I have deadlines."

"Are your deadlines going to prevent us from going out tomorrow? You promised to take me to the newest opera."

"And that is a promise I shall keep."

"Oh you better. You've broken the last eight."

"Not intentionally." He folds his hands on the table as he skirts the truth. True, duties tended to pop up increasingly now that the King had shown renewed interest in the latest doings of the Abyss - the sorceress Lady Miranda Barma claims to hold a certain level of expertise, and she has been whispering her mystical northern ideas into the old codger's head. But on occasion, he'd be wrapped up in re-writes or had stayed up all night working out a new subplot and overslept. More and more, he finds solace in his words than in the company of others.

Lacie places her hands upon the table and puts her pert little face in his. "Levi," she jokes, "you act as if you've never taken on a lover before!"

He taps her nose with a bandaged finger. "I have, but they were not as rambunctious as you. You should find someone who can match your passions, not an old geezer like me."

He remembers all of the people who had been casual attractions in his past and the access to any fetching thing he desired as Duke. He shamelessly flirted at society events and brought life to any gathering, but copulated with only a handful. Most of his partners he lusted more for their intellectual prowess than their expertise in bed. Now the idea of entwining with another human being other than Lacie feels ultimately pointless, as much as he might enjoy it. Perhaps he is becoming more cynical as his time grew nearer?

On the other hand, Lacie is an exacting lover. He's used to being quite affectionate with her in general, but being affectionate didn't equal being sexual in his eyes. The past few months had completely transformed his view of her from a ravenously playful girl to a sensual, confident woman.

But while she offers him a sense of release that rarely comes into his life anymore, Levi finds his inner world locked tighter than ever before and the need to be alone even greater.

Easy enough now he had distanced himself from others closest to him. Celia had been gone for years during her trek across the globe in order to discover any secrets to the Abyss in foreign lands (and sends wonderful discoveries for his cabinet, but that does not make up for her physical absence). Though his personal dispute against Fang passed, he cannot allow the senior Baskerville any further into his affairs lest he discover their plot. The Council lurks in the shadows of his mind. Rarely does he feel that he can act openly and sincerely to anyone anymore. Not even with Lacie.

The only true escape he has is his writing. No one can spy on his imagination; the worlds he creates he has entire control over. His characters he can exploit and control without painful consequences. Moreover, whatever he pens has the power to make others laugh, cry, feel love or hate or terror over characters whose motivations are constantly shifting and unknowable. This strange net he casts over his readers - how he can show them ways of new understanding yet feels equally satisfied by their misunderstandings of his work - is an intellectual and emotional intoxication he cannot resist.

"Glen." The use of his title indicated a shift in her mood once more and he is roused from his thoughts as Lacie draws his hand to place it on her belly. "You know I'm only joking about the count. The Western Isles are dreadful this time of year. Yet Lady Celia writes such lovely things about them. Alas, I'll never find out firsthand."

He squeezes the spot beneath his palm. They have four months left and as far as they know, she isn't pregnant yet. What if they had started too late, and Levi's seed had become too weak?

"I'm serious about this count, y'know. A few weeks trysting with a strapping foreigner and-"

She slaps him lightly. "Why don't  _you_  run off with a noble, if you adore them so much?"

He chuckles. "One of the few alternatives I cannot indulge in, unlike you," Levi says. "You have the power to change everything. Die and have your offspring become a vessel to change our world, or destroy the world and find a new way to live with them."

"Levi, you know not everyone can survive in the Abyss." She leans her head on his and black and white mix upon his shoulders. "Myself, Oswald, and the other Baskervilles can. Everyone else - all humans, animals, everything - they can't live without becoming changed into something they are not."

"True, dear. Even the bodies of past Glens dropped have no choice but to be transformed into Chains."

"Oswald will have all of yours soon. Once he does, you won't be a Baskerville anymore." Her fingers massage into his shoulders. "If I destroy the world," she murmurs, "will you be gone as well?"

He blinks. "Does it matter what happens to me?"

"Not only for you. For our child." She places a hand on top of his.

This is the first time she calls their theoretical offspring "ours" and not simply "hers."

"It doesn't have to be mine," Levi points out once more. "There are alternatives-"

"Are you saying my choice doesn't matter?" She snaps. "Am I only a test subject to be indulged and no more than that?"

"Of course not. You are," and Kahina's old romanticism jumps onto his lips again, "my queen." His arms encircle her waist. "I will halt everything on your command. You know this."

"You only keep telling me it's my decision so the blame never falls upon you." Her smile is cruel, not teasing.

"Lacie, I don't intend to be harsh."

"No, you never want to seem harsh. You've been nothing but kind and only ask for my life and my womb in exchange!"

The words are vicious because she knows who his mother had been and where he had come from, but Levi shrugs off the insult, trying to determine the source of her sudden spite.

Does she regret wanting Levi as the sire if he cannot be with her should their world end? Does she fear Levi doesn't care about her happiness? Is she in love with him? Her feelings are an experimental factor Levi hadn't taken into account (No, he knows better than to think that. He thinks he had raised her to accept cold realities, but how can he say that while admitting to his own illogical desires?)

"The child is a vessel.  _You_  are the key to that child," Levi says. "I'm replaceable. You have to realize all of the ramifications of our experiment. Including the fact that my contribution ultimately doesn't matter."

She breaks out of his hold. "You're right, Glen. Whatever happens to you shouldn't affect the outcome. I'm foolish to worry about how we enjoy the rest of our lives."

"Lacie-?" She is gone from his rooms, leaving Levi dumbfounded.

He pushes his quill aside with an elbow as he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, pulling his hand down over his face and covering his mouth. Lacie is correct about one thing; Levi is not treating her as an adoring lover would. Perhaps she's not used to partnering with someone who doesn't put her on a pedestal. She is being treated as he had treated most in his life: he isn't necessarily one to prioritize another's feelings when he doesn't think such feelings are warranted toward the matter at hand. Levi had always let Lacie indulge herself with anyone-why should she care about his companionship?

 _Well, the same reason why you always sought out hers over the years,_ he tells himself and gives a half-smile into his closed hand. He exhales sharply, picks up his quill, and dips it into the inkwell. He makes a mark on the inside of his wrist as a reminder for tomorrow's date.

* * *

The following day, Levi glances at the smudge on his inner wrist during high tea and curses. He tosses down his napkin and rushes off to the Tower. Snow had begun to thicken in the early winter air.

"Lacie! Lacie!"

She is singing one of the compositions she assembled with Oswald. Strains of melody reach his ears as he enters the front parlor room.

"Sorry, I can't take you out today," he says, knowing how irresponsible that comes across. Honestly, he wants to add, blame Oswald for losing track of my schedule, but before the joke comes out, he sees her.

Lacie lies across the cold stone floor, her hands weaving in and out of the golden lights rising from the floor. A glazed expression covers her face as the singing continues. Is she merely entertaining herself? Or, is part of her soul already in the Abyss, and she is singing to her mysterious friend on the other side?

The ability to enter the Abyss at will, and not through the Gate - Levi never understood this power fully, except that all Children of Misfortune had the uncanny quality of projecting themselves on another spiritual plane that existed on the same level as the Abyss. His mother had done it, and despite all of his investigations, he can't achieve the same, and neither could Oswald.

Slowly, she stirs and returns to his reality at the sound of his voice. Through lowered eyelids, she says airily, "Isn't this the ninth time you've broken our promise, Glen?"

Ah, her formal address means she's still mad at him. "We're one step away from the memorable number ten!" he quips in return.

He thinks it's better for her to stay annoyed at him for awhile - in some respects, he does deserve it, and in other ways, it is better for her to stop trying to latch onto their partnership as tightly as she had. He rushes to explain himself in a way that doesn't put all the fault upon his shoulders. "I had completely forgotten that a son of the Barma house was coming to visit."

He takes her hand to help her. In other moods, on other days, Lacie would've pulled him down to join her on the floor, but her touch is light and careless as she straightens upright.

"Again?" She gives a small yawn. "They were exiled from their country after losing a power struggle, and now they're desperate to curry favor with the Baskervilles, I bet."

"Don't talk like that." He tries playing things light as she did, not bringing up their argument from the night before. "I, for one, like experiencing foreign cultures that come calling. Today they'll be playing their nation's traditional instruments." A pause as he watches her bowed head, her dismissive air. "Join us if you're in the mood," he can't help but add, as if he didn't notice that tension in the Tower.

"I'll think about it."

He smirks. "Well, see you! I'll keep my promise next time."

He hurries away, taking bets that Lacie will stay the remainder of the night there, just to act contrary, and nurses a twisted bit of satisfaction at the thought.

* * *

"Your Grace." Lord Arthur Barma bows deeply. Beside him, are the troupe of musicians dressed in national costumes from his native country. As is customary, the performers wear shawls over their heads; according to their aesthetics, the individual interferes with the act of true beauty, and music is most exquisite when the players are completely anonymous.

Oswald, playing the role of his head of security, also stands cloaked by his side. Levi nudges him. "They like to keep an air of mystery about them as much as we do, eh?" He looks about his guard all hooded and in red, surrounding the group of veiled men and women. Only the two highest nobles remained bare-headed.

"Welcome, my dear Lord Arthur. I look forward to tonight's events."

A tall man, bearing a certain inner grace ventured forward and sat down in the center of the room. Lights were dimmed except for a focus from the main chandelier, and the crystals reflected the light from the gas bulbs placed inside, creating an eerie imitation of the lights of the Abyss.

During the second piece, Levi hears the subtle creak of the door behind him and out of the corner of his eye, notes Lacie slipping into the room. She has her head bowed - a little sheepishly, maybe? - and she shuffles off to stand toward the side of the room.

Levi isn't the only one who notices her, however.

The musician stays his hands, leaving the final notes trembling.

The instrument drops and clatters to the floor. The chair tips over and falls with a thud.

"Lacie!"

The veil over his head and shoulders flies into the air as the musician springs forward. His long braid whips out behind him in a soft golden cord. "Lacie, Lacie!"

The man embraces her.

"What in the-?" Arthur starts.

Levi freezes.

"I missed you! I've been looking everywhere for you, these eight long years!" The man is blubbering, the words tumbling over themselves as he grips her tight against him. "And now I've finally found you, Lacie!"

Oswald's knife hand flies. The flat of the blade knocks him down. Oswald twists his wrist, raises his hand again-

"Don't kill him," orders Levi.

Oswald frowns. "He'll live."

He rises from his chair, turning to his companion. "What is the meaning of this, Lord Arthur?"

The ginger-haired noble's whole face seems to fall like a hangdog's jowls. "I-I don't understand this myself! My younger sister introduced me to this musician."

"Lacie," Oswald demands, "Do you know this man?"

Her voice is small. "No."

Yet Lacie's stare intrigues Levi. He takes her by the hand and guides her to the door. "Best be off where you're safe from this intruder. Mr. Doug, please escort her to the Tower."

The bulky man nods. "My Lady."

Lacie remains in a daze, even glances backward as two Baskerville guards haul the unconscious man away. Levi touches a finger to his chin. Usually her suitors were met with instant dismissal or immediate flirtation. No one simply stuns Lacie Baskerville into silence.

Arthur is beside himself. "Your Grace, I had no idea. Please don't blame me or Miranda-"

"No blame at all. It is only fortunate Oswald relies on his instincts," says Levi. He peers over at the unconscious man. "This is an interesting development. Take him into one of the private parlors and post some men at the door."

"Please, I beg you." Sweat is pouring from the poor man's forehead.

Levi chuckles. "Lord Arthur, don't fret. Stay and enjoy some of the port and a smoke from the sideboard, would you? Indulge yourself. Our selection is quite exquisite."

Something very striking lurked about this stranger, and Levi wants to discover what.

* * *

There is something pleasantly docile in the way young Jack Vessalius sits in the interrogation chair before him, not commenting on anything even as Oswald explains his identity and where he had come from. Jack has a very cavalier physique, even if it is belied by his puppy-dog green eyes. Levi sits across from him in the smaller room and thinks how much Jack resembles a bumbling hero he once wrote into a light comic novel a few years back. Words he used then for the hero fit Jack perfectly: "He looked a fool, but an endearing one, so people accepted him."

After Oswald quickly named him, Levi replies, "Hey, if you knew him, you shouldn't have let him in here in the first place."

"You once pointed out that I rely 'too much on intuition,' so I decided to wait and see."

"That's not what I meant." He huffs the fringe out of his eyes in exasperation. "You really are so stubborn."

"I beg your pardon."

"Um... excuse me," Jack interjects. Levi resists the impulse to pat the man on the head. "Where's Lacie?"

A slow smile crosses Levi's face. Jack must be one of those hanger-ons smitten with her, like that Western count. "Do you know understand just where you are right now?"

"I'm at the Baskerville residence," he chirps.

"That's not what I meant." He steeples his fingers together and leans over menacingly. "As the present head of the Baskervilles, my will is law here in this house. Even if I torture you to death simply on a whim, no one will lift a finger to stop or condemn me." He lets the threat weigh down the room.

The man doesn't miss a beat. "So you're going to kill me? Then at least allow me to see Lacie one more time before you do."

Levi's lips tighten into a smirk. Jack Vessalius is going to be one of those types, isn't he? Well, Levi had no qualms shooting down this lovebird, while at the same time, he couldn't bear to see that hopeful expression of his dissolve.

"I'm not aware of what happened between you and Lacie but she's a fickle one," he explains. "She often finds herself a favorite when she sneaks out of the house and is nice to them only when they're together. If you're expecting something special from her-"

That blank glee didn't change, but Jack then does something Levi doesn't expect. "I know that," he says softly, his tone shifting again. There is no disappointment as he goes on, "She didn't even remember me. But I'm okay with that. She's a free spirit and no one can catch her or pin her down." Wistfulness fills his pretty face. "No, no one can do that. I'm glad she hasn't changed a bit."

What a lovely romantic sentiment. How selfless yet presumptuous of Jack to approve of Lacie's behavior, as if they were old friends. Nevertheless, this sharp insight nestled in Jack's fluffy love intrigues the leader of the Baskervilles. Jack is more self-aware than Levi initially gave him credit for.

Levi touches a hand to his cheek. "You're rather amusing." This young man has already demonstrated a combination of qualities Levi finds immediately useful: dedication, intelligence, and no sense of self-preservation in the face of danger. Plus, total acceptance of the unusual. He may be a worthy candidate to create his experimental vessel.

But would Lacie accept him? For all of the past infatuations Lacie had, she never once mentioned a Jack of the Vessalius House. The sense of mystery only deepens. He waves Oswald to get his unexpected guest a glass of cordial from the sideboard.

"I didn't know one such as you was part of the Vessalius House. I don't have you down on my list of nobles."

Oswald places the crystal glass in front of Jack as he answers, "You wouldn't know him, as he has only recently began to participate in society." His head of security continues as he makes his way to Levi's side once more, and Levi notices Oswald is very much not letting Jack see his back, as if still anticipating an attack. Oswald is acting highly alert, which is odd, considering how hapless Jack appears. "It is not widely known, but he lived in a remote region for a long time with his mistress mother."

"What's this? How do you know so much about him?"

"I looked into him a little."

Jack widens his eyes a bit. Levi figures it is high time for full introductions, especially since Jack seems like a person he wants to keep around this castle.

"This is my valet Oswald. He is also the elder brother of your beloved Lacie."

That same alertness crosses Jack's face as Oswald removes his hood to meet the man in the eye. Is Jack discomforted by Oswald who nearly cut his head from his neck a mere half-hour ago? Is Oswald discomforted by anyone who had designs on his sister?

"Have we met before at a society event or something?"

"No, at the time I was simply keeping an eye on everything since I had business to attend to. Thus, this is our first time meeting."

Levi observes the two in amusement of their hawk-and-hare confrontation. Jack is almost quivering under the looming threat of Oswald's violet stare. "Still, it's rare that you're interested in other people," he notes.

"True. I can't help but be curious about him."

Levi always had a penchant for fair-haired people, Lacie being the only exception. "Eh, Oswald, I didn't know you swung that way," he jests but the joke flies over Oswald's head. He gives Levi a blank look while across the table Jack flushes in instant understanding. Levi finds both reactions quite adorable.

"I don't quite get your meaning but, it's been on my mind the moment I laid eyes on him." He returns his focus on Jack. "The reason why I find this man so disgusting."

Jack appears simply petrified. Levi barks out an ugly seal laugh, kneeling over his chair.

Oswald blinks. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, c'mon!" Levi pounds the flat of his hand against the table. "What you just said...!" The only reason why Oswald ever makes a bluntly rude comment is when he is most intrigued about a person, yet can't puzzle out a tactful way of expressing it. Levi is used to this habit of his manservant's, but it is enjoyable to see this quirk applied to someone else and not him. "You have to explain why you felt that way."

"I'm not sure if I can put it into words that well..."

"It's fine," Levi drawls, "Just tell me how you felt."

Oswald exhales slowly, drifts off into his own head for a bit. Levi can practically see the young man grappling for whatever unusual comparison he needed to describe his impressions-his "space case words" as Levi calls them. Oswald used to be more responsive as a boy. Levi knows that the burden of so many Chains inside him had affected the man's focus and energy as the years passed. He puts a hand to Oswald's arm encouragingly.

Finally, Oswald says, "I feel Jack Vessalius is like water."

"Water, you say?"

"Yes. A body of water with a silent surface, where the water is so pure and clear that no fish can live in it. Even if I gaze into this water, only my figure is reflected back and I cannot know his true nature. He's right in front of me, yet there is a grating sense of unease, the sense that no one is really there..."

_Splash!_

Jack stands, face bright red, shoulders shaking with each heavy breath. Bright drops of cordial drip onto the table. Levi is stunned. Oswald, as if waking from a dream, pulls his bare hand down his face, sending droplets of wine everywhere. Levi stifles a giggle.

The sound of tapping heels.

Immediately, Lacie bursts through the wooden double doors, grabs Jack by the hand, and drags the fellow bodily away.

 _Slam!_ goes the doors as they left. Immediately, Levi's mirth tumbles over and he nearly falls out of his chair at the display. What kind of man is this Jack to provoke his wards so?

"Bwahahahahahaaha!" He nearly can't breathe! How ridiculous, how splendidly ridiculous!

Oswald wipes his face with his cloak while the Baskerville leader recovers. He leans over the back of his seat and imagines the couple dashing down the hallway. Lacie's determined interlude, Oswald's steady tolerance pushed to the edge, Jack's childlike fright-what a great set-up.

Levi loves this interloper. The man is perfect.

"Well, well then. Been awhile since this place's been shaken up." He claps his hands together, pushes his chair back, and slaps a hand on Oswald's shoulder. "Tidy yourself and inform Arthur that I thank his sister for suggesting such an intriguing newcomer. Arthur's welcome to join us for supper tonight."

"He won't be reprimanded then?"

"Why should he?" He leans against the chair as he tucks his shawl about himself. "We should invite Jack to dine as well!"

Oswald gives a dark look. "Is it wise to welcome this stalker into our home, Master?"

"You don't like him, Oswald? He seems quite harmless, and Lacie's taken to him, literally." He flips a hand behind him.

Levi has seen his Lacie act stubborn, angry, coy, fetching, obstinate, flamboyant, demanding and everything in between over the years. Never, however, had she come to rescue a hapless man in such a way. It is as if she suspected Jack needed to leave immediately, before he got caught up in the scheme which is quickly falling into place in Levi's head.

He calls for pen, ink, and parchment (as a writer, he has a store stocked in every room), and scribbles out a loose map before going off to look for the two youths.

Levi spies Jack and Lacie by the road leading out of the estate. A carriage already awaits them and he approaches from behind Lacie, slipping past the trees. The snow had grown thicker as the evening came on, and the darkened sky matches the soft charcoal of his shawl.

Jack ends his words, "But it feels like a dream that I got to see you again."

Before Lacie replies, Levi places his hands on her shoulders.

"Then come visit again."

The wind flutters, lifting the corner of Levi's shawl in a flurry of white flakes. "You can come and go from this place easily, if you use the path drawn here." He takes Jack's hands into his (how warm, how soft those hands, like a woman's) and tucks into his palm a map showing the back pathways to the rear gardens, past the soldier's barracks and directly to the Tower. This had been one of Lacie's favorite escape routes as well, and recognizing the map, she gives him a questioning look.

He presses his grip for a moment and lightly lets Jack go. His head is level with Lacie's and he speaks against her ear. "Do come call on us again, all right?" She is trembling and not from the cold. Her easy flirtation, those nimble caresses she had given him yesterday: the actions of a wily and confident woman has suddenly transformed into a girl, uncertain and wary. Now if Lacie truly disliked or felt indifferent toward Jack Vessalius, now would be the ideal time to dismiss Levi's offer. And yet, she does not. Why had Jack reduced her to this?

"Come as often as you like, until you can feel that the Lacie in front of your eyes is very much real." Levi squeezes her shoulder as if punctuating his invitation.

Jack beams and gives a deep bow to the both of them. "Your Grace, Lacie, my thanks!" That look of pure joy does not leave his face as he boards the carriage and departs.

For a long awhile, the two of them stand in the snowfall, watching the road before them.  _I can accept a man like Jack_ , Levi thinks, bemused. He remembers how jealous he had been when he believed Fang caught Lacie's heart. Then for awhile, he had been caught himself by the initial raptures of his affair with her. The past year he had willfully blinded himself to reality. Now he recognizes the cost of indulging in those cheap human emotions.

The fact is, they only had four months left and Lacie should be with partners more suitable than he. If she refuses to come to her senses and make more reasonable decisions, Levi will simply introduce a new factor into the equation and re-calibrate the results. Jack appears to be a devoted yet undemanding personality and physically not too hard on these old eyes of his. Levi enjoys the idea of Lacie being cared for by this man.

Lacie asks in a hard tone, "What do you intend to do with Jack, Glen?"

"I don't know yet." He throws his head up, letting the cold flakes settle on his lashes. "But I've become terribly fond of him!"

He feels her posture stiffen under his arms. She suspects his bald-faced attempt at matchmaking and he is curious to see what she makes of it.

"What now? Have you gotten attached to that human?"

"Don't be silly. To do so would be pointless." She flicks his touch away, moves out into the snow. He sees her figure obscured by a white wind, pulling at her dark locks. "Because I'm going to die soon."

"Really now?" He can't tell if Lacie admits this to counter his own move, or if she has truly made her decision.

She don't acknowledge his remark and instead, whirls around in the snow like she had done as young girl, arms upraised, skirts billowing, and she offers up a masked grin which matches his own. "I love snowy days!" she declares. "They just seem to present a whole world full of possibilities. Don't you agree, Glen?"

"Quite." He crosses his arms and doesn't join in her dance. What a fascinating endgame this will turn out to be.


	18. A Promise Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The scene between Levi, Lacie, Jack and Oswald is based on the Pandora Hearts Volume 22 Drama CD "Another Story of a Promise Lost".

"I don't know why you keep doing this, Levi." Celia's fingers moved precisely along the edge of his scalp; he winced when she pressed down on the sore spot on the back of his head and placed the poultice on the bruise. "You'll never win."

"Since when is winning the point? Can't the journey along the way ever matter?"

"Not if that journey results in injuries like this."

"Time heals all wounds, and a Baskerville's even faster." He chuckled. "Besides, Celia, it's not like Glen's going truly to try and kill me. Her Majesty won't like needless bloodshed on her name-day."

"You know how Your Grace hates embarrassing herself. These rehearsal scrapes won't stop until you retract the idea of performing in front of the court." Celia finished securing the bandage over his brow.

The two sat together in the parlor of his quarters, the medical kit sitting beside Celia. Levi's injuries had been relatively minor at the start of the rehearsal process - a cut or some minor bruising here and there, and Levi cracked it up to be as rough as one of his usual sparring sessions. But the closer the Queen's name-day celebration loomed, the intensity of the beatings increased during the choreographed duel between him and Kahina. After their dress rehearsal ended with Levi being tossed out the window and Kahina blustering, "All right, playwright, go find your own pirate!" he had to admit perhaps he was pressing too many of the Baskerville leader's buttons in this venture.

Seeing the expression of annoyance on her face even as he tumbled over the window sill and into the bushes below had been entirely worth it, though.

"What's embarrassing about performance? It's merely public speaking, only fancier. Glen drills her soldiers daily; you know she loves barking out words in front of a captive audience."

"Oh you." Celia gave him a playful push. "Why couldn't I take the role of the pirate king? I recite with the best of them."

"But you can't flourish. It'll take you twice as long to learn the fight routine anyway-"

"Because I'm blind?" she snipped.

"Yes." Levi was not one to deal in pointless niceties, but Celia could be just as blunt and was used to his manner. "I thought you liked being the princess."

"But all she does is mope and wail. Mope and wail and  _pine after Glen!_  Ugh. That's simply the worse."

"O sweet Beatrice, why dost thou appear so glum?" Levi turns his head and lifts her chin. "Come away, come away, and thou shalt be mine!"

"Hath thine no sense of reason? Mine heart be true to only one thing," she said in return, clutching his shoulders and then giving a melodramatic push in rejection. "The pirate king hath stolen away mine soul, and I long for him to plunder my body as well." She placed a hand to her brow and dipped in a forlorn matter. "Alas, alas, alas!"

The two collapsed into a fit of giggles on the parlor sofa. Tomorrow was the planned performance, and Levi and Celia had their parts down perfectly - it helped that Celia often had Levi recite plays to her since they were small, since she couldn't read and used a handmaiden to dictate any written words.

A knock on the open doorway. The move was for Celia's benefit as well as an expression of politeness. "Are we recovered from our dress rehearsal, Levi?"

"Glen, tossing me out the first-story window is the least possible way of deterring me from our engagement tomorrow." Levi smiled. "But you'll have to readjust our choreography because the Queen's ballroom balconies have a three-story drop, not simply one."

Kahina kept a straight face. "Surely, this possibility doesn't frighten you?"

"As much as the possibility of your reciting iambic pentameter out of place before the King and Queen." He loved seeing that twinge of anxiety cross Kahina's face. It wasn't often that he had the opportunity to jar her.

"We still have time to formally bow out of tomorrow's entertainment," she said. "Please don't make me do this."

"What? When have I ever made you do anything? Isn't my fault the king wants to see my new play."

"Yes, it is when you postured and bragged non-stop about it at last month's ball."

"We're not even doing the entirety." Levi kicked up his heels and swung them over the sofa armrest. "It's only ten lines and a sparring match. You're the villain to boot. Isn't that fun?"

"But it'll be before the entire court. The  _entire_ court." She crossed her arms and turned up her nose a bit. "Baskervilles are not supposed to be so… public."

"No wonder nobles keep spreading those nasty rumors about our mysterious nature." He slipped out of his seat and sided up to Kahina. "Plus, I'm sure the ladies would love to see you in an actor's light. Perhaps that'll mean they'll swoon at you up close instead of from a distance."

She grimaced. "It's not just this scene. it's… the costuming."

"What's wrong with the costuming?" Levi spun around in his outfit, the doublet and tights that princes of old donned.

"I don't like… the hat."

The hat in question was a bloated monstrosity currently sitting on top of the woman's head, barely held in place if not for the assistance of a few well-placed pins. "What's wrong with the hat?"

"It's poofy." She made a face. "No one wear's hats with such plumage anymore."

"You're a  _pirate_. Pirates have extravagant poofy hats. It's a job requirement."

"You'll make me look ridiculous."

"It's not you, Your Grace. It is the Dread Pirate Blackheart who looks ridiculous." He grabbed the wooden painted sword propped up against the endtable and took first stance. "Foul pirate!" he roared, "How dare dost thou think you can claim the princess for your own-?"

Kahina pulled a hand down her face. A giant fluffy feather bobbed down in front of her nose as she did so. "Oh Levi…"

"C'mon, you know this."

She rolled her eyes and unlatched the wooden sword on her belt. "O Prince Gregory," she deadpanned, "Mighty thou thinkst thou art, but gaze upon my blade and prove it so."

"Once more, with feeling!" Levi poked her stomach with the sword and she knocked it away with her blocking arm.

"O Prince Gregory!"

"More emotion!"

"Mighty thou thinkst thou art!" she turned, swiped overhead. Levi ducked the blow, took two steps to the left, and jumped another blow that glanced his side. "But gaze upon my blade and prove it so!"

She moved with sure precision now, but Levi had no doubts how much the Baskerville leader will stutter and sweat in the lights tomorrow night. They practiced their routine once more, Celia giving what notes she could ("The sword is wooden, Your Grace, not your tone. Loosen up!") and Levi managed to avoid tumbling out the parlor window from Kahina's parting blow (but only barely.)

* * *

"This. Is. Terrible." Levi balls up the sheet of paper and tosses aside. The wad bounces off of Oswald's head, but the man doesn't look up, used to this behavior from his master. Instead, the Baskerville heir gives a soft sigh and continues shifting the leaves into the teapot as he sets up the evening tea service.

"Ah, this won't  _work_. The creative juices just aren't flowing for some reason..." He sighs. "Must be too much marzipan for dessert. Eating marzipan always make me too jumpy and I can't focus…" He gazes around the side parlor at Jack and Lacie, who sit across from each other playing a round of chess close to the fireplace. The early spring evening still retains a touch of winter, and a subtle etching of frost covers the outside pains. "Hey, Jack, Lacie, suggest some writing prompts for me to tackle."

Jack looks up from the board. Levi knows that man always has his tongue missing for a split second whenever Levi calls on him for motivating ideas, as if too many things flew about Jack's head as he rummages for a proper response. "Ummm….."

Lacie pushes her bishop diagonally. "I refuse."

Levi leans back in his seat and tosses a few papers in the air for dramatic effect. "Curses! You can't even humor me once?"

Leaning an elbow on one knee, Jack says accommodatingly, "Well, if you explain more in-depth what you want, I'm sure I can think of something…."

"Don't bother with him, Jack. That hack writer's just exaggerating. Maybe he's finally figured out he'll never write anything worth publishing." She pokes her lower lip out mockingly. "How disappointing you can never be compared to today's literary giants."

"Ha! Oh, Lacie, don't you realize hack writers are the only ones who get published nowadays? The reading public loves their dreck and I'm full of it." In reality, Levi takes much pride in being so prolific. On the bookshelves around them are over a dozen dime novels he churned out over the years (along with the philosophical treatise or two). He writes under the pseudonym "Evil B", however, because the idea of his readers puzzling out his true identity amuses him.

"Hack writing or not, I certainly like your books." Jack turns his chair to face Levi at his writing desk. "I unfortunately don't have any literary talent, so I'm afraid it'd be difficult to help you…"

Levi leans forward again and the front chair legs hit the ground with a satisfying thud. "Well, I'm sure you can assist me in a bit of research." His lavender eyes glint mischievously. The past year, his vision had gotten worse due to his eyes degenerating from his body containing so much of the Abyss's power without the protection of all five Chains. The effect is that nearly all of the whites of his eyes had been replaced by a rim of red from perpetually bursting capillaries, giving him almost a demonic gaze. "I'd be intrigued to learn more about your personal experiences with desire."

"Desire?"

"Or love."

"Boring." Lacie knocked one of Jack's pawns off the table with a flick of her wrist.

"Lacie, only you would think love is boring. Romance can be quite sappy if applied liberally, but for this novel, I want to try something new and refreshing." Levi touches the feathered end of his quill to his lips. "Usually, I churn out adventure tales. Knights, detectives, or whatever, but it's usually about the friendship between two men. That's why for my next work, I want to try writing a steamy love novel."

Levi waggles his eyebrows at her and she presses her lips into a thin line.

Jack, not noticing their exchange, replies with some hesitation, "There's not much I can contribute in that area, either. And I suppose the best steamy love novels come from personal experience."

She narrows her eyes. "Personal experience, eh? A man like Glen can't possibly speak from that, I'm sure."

He lowers his quill and props up an elbow on the writing desk. "Hey, you're one to talk. Out of the entire Baskerville household, there isn't any man more passionate than I."

"Oh really?" Jack's expression is truly innocent. Levi wonders what would happen if he pulls a classic "Lacie" move on him: gets up, straddles the blond man's lap, presses Jack's face into his. Lacie had claimed she had more than once tempted Jack in this manner, only to receive no reaction in return. This, of course, concerns Levi, especially since he intends for Jack to act as Lacie's sire.

Instead, he goes in a different direction. "Ah. In fact, I am in love right now."

"With who?"

"Lacie."

The teapot shatters behind them.

Oswald whirls around quickly, bumping against the tea service and making all of the china plates tremble. "Wha…What are you saying-? Master?"

Levi glances over one shoulder. "What? You were here the whole time, Oswald?"

"Ah— what a waste of good tea after you went through all that trouble setting it up." Jack steps over and starts picking up the pieces as Oswald's face turns an unusual shade of red.

"If… If you ever lay hands on my sister, I'll never forgive you!"

From the floor, Jack gives a dismissive wave. "No, no. Oswald. People should be free to like who they want."

"Hah!? Eh… Ah… That's true…"

 _This is why I like Jack_ , Levi thinks smugly, but realizes that Oswald's typical placid expression had suddenly been disturbed in a way he has only seen a handful of times before.

"Oh, I can see why you'd feel so flustered if I were to place my attentions upon your lovely little sister." He walks over and places an arm around Lacie's shoulder. "Especially by a master who's the complete opposite of you: fiercely intelligent, unspeakably handsome, and a beacon of respect throughout the land. My inferiority complex would go through the roof if I were in your shoes." He nuzzles Lacie's shoulder, noting the lack of reaction on Jack's part and the tripling on Oswald's. "So sad!"

Lacie says flatly, "You're free to cut him down, brother."

Oswald seems half-tempted to actually pull out his sword, and that is when Jack springs up again, the floor wiped clean and pieces carefully stacked back on the service.

"Hold on, Oswald, don't jump in too hastily." He pats his friend's shoulder. "Ah, let me ask this, Glen. What do you like about Lacie?"

"That she isn't cute." He chuckles, still crouching next to her. Lacie puts a hand to his face and shoves, making him stumble back on his haunches and onto the rug.

"My sister is very cute!" Oswald protests.

"Ah, that's not what I meant." He crossed his legs to sit, guru-style, on the floor. "I think the fact that she isn't cute is cute. You probably don't understand."

Oswald turns back to his tea. "Hrumpf."

"And I simply like her face. Her black hair is very beautiful."

Lacie kicks the fallen pawn to let it roll by Levi's feet. "The reason you like me is because of my appearance and how I'm not cute. How awful."

Jack, mirroring Levi's move, sits before him on the carpet. Levi wonders why Jack is so invested in knowing Levi's feelings without any regard to his own. Intriguing. "So… this is saying that Glen likes black-haired woman then, right?"

"Well, it's not saying that I love all  _women_  with black hair. They're not my usual type." Jack's braid trails on the ground and Levi picks up the tail end and flicks its around. Jack's eyes widen a bit at the gesture, but he does nothing else. Lacie has her arms folded across the back of her seat, witnessing Levi's flirtation, eyelids lowered. Oswald, all of this subtext going over his head, prepares another pot and lets the tea steep as he takes the chair Jack had left by the chess table. "Before Lacie, the last woman I liked had blonde hair."

"Hey, was that person also a Baskerville?" He puts a hand to his braid and Levi drops Jack's hair with a smile.

"Ah, yes. She was my predecessor." Levi imagines gleefully the reactions of the Council in his soul, and the sour expression on Kahina's face hearing all of this. He likes dropping such provoking lines occasionally. This is also one reason why he loves making his partners scream passionately during sexual intercourse.

"That's allowed?" Oswald gasps.

"First time I'm hearing this." Lacie tilts her head at him with a furrowed brow. The two siblings certainly know the person Levi is referring to, having seen her portrait in the memorial alcove with all of the past Glens.

"Your predecessor…." Jack says wonderingly.

"She preferred men's clothing-"  _and women's company_ , he silently adds, "-so I didn't know she was a woman until a long time had passed. Besides, she always rejected my advances, resulting in the most painful beatings."

A pause. Levi watches Lacie's expression. Is she jealous over Levi's lie? Or is she thinking that such relations were typical of the Baskerville House? Is she comparing his past love life to theirs?

"I have nothing to say." Lacie brusquely angles her chair back to the board game.

Jack wraps his braid around one hand, keeping it away from Levi's reach. "I can see how the two of you would be a good fit."

"No, in the end nothing happened between myself and my predecessor…."

Jack's expression is unreadable. "I'm talking about you and Lacie, Glen."

"Eh?" She starts while Oswald once again emits a loud exclamation.

"Ohhh?"  _Maybe Jack thinks he can't make a move upon Lacie out of respect for me,_  Levi thinks.  _I should take it upon myself to show him how welcome he is. We could use a third tonight.  
_

"Because you two have known each other for so long, and understand each other well."

He lifts his head and blinks at Oswald seated above him. "What do you think, Oswald?"

"B-B-Becoming lovers… those two…" That strange coloration returns in full force and suddenly, Oswald slams his hand upon the chess board, scattering pieces everywhere and even making Levi get to his feet. "No! I will never let something like this happen!"

"Wait a minute, brother," Lacie says. "Did you just fantasize about us?"

"Is it like that?" Levi jabs his elbow in Oswald's shoulder. "Eh, brother-in-law? "

"Who's your brother-in law?!" Oswald slaps his arm away.

Sensing that unnatural agitation, Jack holds up his palms. "Whoa, Oswald…"

"Jack, shut up! Master Glen always teases me, but enough is enough!"

Levi whispers in his ear. "But I'm serious. "

"He says he's serious."

"Don't you take his seriousness seriously! It's just rubbish!" The black-haired man flails his hands in annoyance and Levi pouts.

"Your rejection is so cruel, Oswald."

Lacie now stands up to defend her older sibling. "Stop messing with my brother, Glen! He's too pure to be your plaything."

"My plaything? You tease him too."

"But only I can!" She stomps her foot, much like she had done as a child.

"Yeah! Only she can!" Oswald chimes in. "Because I'm her plaything!"

The tips of Jack's ears turn red. "Oswald, I don't think you understand what you meant by that..."

"Of course he doesn't. My darling Oswald can be such a space case." He pinches Oswald's cheek in parental adoration. "And my darling Lacie is so sweet when she comes to his rescue." He pulls them both into a hug and beams. "It makes them both utterly adorable!"

"Glen," Lacie says, "you are positively unbearable."

Levi guffaws, releasing his grip, and the rest of the evening lifts his spirits even more. Lacie spots a centipede on the floor and all hell breaks loose. Even as an adult, she can't stand the sight of any living insect, no matter how harmless. Jack, in dutiful adoration, squishes it, but the thought of centipede guts all over the parquet floor only infuriates Lacie more, and she orders him to clean the mess and declares herself ready for bed. Poor Oswald, ever the concerned brother, ends the evening chasing after her.

As Jack washes the floors, they discuss his past trysts, so Levi certainly knows that Jack does not shy away from Lacie out of inexperience or nervousness. The unfortunate end to many of these affairs (and again, Jack's lack of emotions toward them), Levi does find disconcerting, but only slightly.

The two of them now alone, Levi contemplates Jack in the firelight. He suspects he knows the true reason for his writer's block tonight. He could ask Jack to follow him to the Tower for Lacie's sake, and Jack would be sure to comply if she wanted him….

But he knows Jack would say no, even if Levi had asked, even if Lacie wants him to, because of some twisted idea Jack certainly holds about his own inferiority, perhaps, compared to Lacie. Levi doesn't know how he can dismantle whatever angelic pedestal Jack's placed Lacie upon. Already, he's aware of her past escapades and all of her imperfections. Surely, he cannot still believe she is better than him. Does the man have no will of his own? Or, like Levi, does Jack share the same philosophy about individual choice he had always held dear?

The idea of Jack's perspective aligning with his makes the man much more appealing in ways Levi hadn't anticipated when they first met.

"Jack."

"Yes?"

"About our previous conversation... If I really did love Lacie, what would you do about it?"

Jack wrings out the rag and drops it in the bucket. "Nothing, I won't do anything."

"Nothing?"

"Whoever likes Lacie, or whoever Lacie likes. That has nothing to do with me, does it?"

Levi leans over the taller man. "And that's fine with you?"

"Of course." Jack's eyes have that far off look again, as if part of him isn't there at all. Every time that look crosses his face, Levi feels a bit disturbed. "Whatever happens, how I feel about Lacie won't change."

A moment of silence.

"I thought you'd say something like that." Levi feels suddenly comforted for some reason. "Your feelings for Lacie, could it be called love?"

The blond man shrugs as he gets to his feet. "Who knows? Is it or is it not? It's difficult to use language to describe it, Glen."

"Is that so…." Levi goes to the parlor door, torn between being fooled by his expectations for Jack, and yet also gladdened by it. In a peculiar way, Jack's utter respect for Lacie's autonomy makes Levi see him in a whole other light. Not only a mere tool for his experiment as before nor an indulgent amusement for a quiet evening. Jack Vessalius, unknowingly, has become Levi's promising new ally.

"Sorry for asking you such a boring question," he says on his way out. "Go ahead and forget about it."

* * *

"Good evening, darling."

"Ugh, Levi, earlier you were simply horrid to Oswald and Jack." Lacie lounges upon her bed, hand to her forehead. She had already disrobed for the evening and lay there in her nightgown. On a side table, the tools for the evening are already set-up. "Why must you provoke them like that?"

"Same reason why I love provoking you." Levi strides over and grabs the cup and a small bottle. He checks its mate by Lacie's bedstand. "Already drank yours?"

"Yes. Again, horrid." Lacie sighs. Levi pours his measure of the fertility remedy he had worked up using the old medicinal books in his library and takes a swing. An inky, salty taste floods his mouth and he swallows, trying not to think of the specific ingredients used. He takes a drink of water from the pitcher on the bedstand to take the ichor away.

"Can you imagine what Oswald was thinking about us, though?" He tosses the cup back on the table and clasps both hands to his chest. "Oh Glen, come and catch me!" he says in a falsetto voice. Then, in a deeper version of his own, he goes on, "Really, you wild child, if you don't stop now, I'll send the Jabberwock after you!" He turns his hands into claws and makes to pounce upon Lacie on the bed. He jumps, she rolls, and he falls into the pillows.

"Stop it. I don't want Oswald to think about us." She kneels, grabs a pillow, and hugs it to her chest.

"Believe me, I'm sure Oswald imagines I'm much more virile than I am." A self-deprecating smile. Half the time he attempts to copulate with Lacie there is no actual copulation. His body is failing, and some parts, admittedly, do not work as well as they did when he was younger. Taking special medications helped a bit, but even so, Levi only finishes his part less than half the time he attempts it.

"Not funny anymore."

"Why not? I think it's hilarious." Levi kisses her shoulder. "Feeling guilty?"

"No." Lacie shares a look. "It's just… Oswald is so much better than either of us, isn't he?"

"Ignorant doesn't equal better, darling. But I do agree, it's preferable Oswald never knows." Levi closes his eyes, thinking that the truth, inevitably, will escape. But, depending upon the whims of the Council, he'll have all eternity to deal with Oswald's backlash.

The effects of the potion he feels working in his limbs. "Lacie," he says, "shall I get the insemination equipment ready?"

"No, I want to try this naturally again." Lacie reaches down, feels for his hardness through the front of his trousers. Slips her hand inside. Pulls. Levi gasps.

"Such a fickle woman you are."

* * *

"Brava, Glen. Brava." Levi tossed Prince Gregory's hat upon the couch. "You do a playwright justice."

"By the Will, you should be grateful you didn't end up off the balcony." Kahina drained her glass of sherry and gestured for another. As Levi poured from the decanter on the sideboard, she added, "They laughed, you know."

"Laughing with you, not at you. The Dread Pirate is a humorous part." Levi helped himself to his own glass; in Kahina's private rooms, she didn't mind them drinking as equals. "I'm only glad you chose the bottle once we returned."

"I need to scrub that experience off the forefront of my brain." She lounged upon the cushions, kicking off the tall black boots and propping her feet on the ottoman. She still donned the elaborate pirate coat, however, and Levi suspected she had become rather fond of it.

"Kahina." He placed a hand on her wrist. "I'm glad we got to do this."

"You owe me."

"What?"

"Give me time and I'll let you know." She gave a wicked grin. "But it'll be worthy of this, I assure you." She lifted her glass. "To a good show."

"Good show indeed." They clinked.

Levi noticed her favoring her left side as she kicked back the second glass.

"You got a stitch?"

"More than that." She winced. "I think there's a new one," she whispered.

Levi grew serious. "Kahina, let me see."

Since he's her manservant, she doesn't refuse his request. "Get the bandages," she said, shrugging off the pirate coat and undoing the cravat and vest. "I might as well get a good look now."

Beneath her chemise, Levi spotted the blood blooming like deadly flowers across the linen wrappings above her left kidney. He cursed, softly, and together, they unwrapped her bindings. A second abscess dripped a deep ruby color in the lamplight. Immediately, Levi got her medical kit and removed some fresh cloths which he doused liberally with alcohol.

"Inhale."

She did as he pressed the rag to the wound. A sharp hiss came out of her as he cleaned the new injury. Needle and thread were readied and he started sewing up the deep abrasion. He was used to performing this sort of medical husbandry for her. Kahina's wounds used to show up once a month across her torso and limbs, but now, a new tear appeared every few days. Every morning when he helped dress her, the process took longer and longer due to the time spent cleaning and redressing her old wounds.

"This body's falling apart."

"Of course it is." A half-grin. "Guilty about pushing your dear mentor to her limit?"

"Never," Levi answered lightly, applying the healing ointment. He checked the other parts of her waist to be sure none of the other stitching had come undone. His fingers gently roam across her flesh with a doctor's thoroughness. Seeing Kahina exposed didn't affect him at all; he had been serving her in all duties as her valet since he had been fifteen, and at almost thirty, he didn't shy away from any sort of care. After his inspection, he wrapped her ribs again, carefully pulled on a layered nightgown, and covered her with a quilted robe.

"You're welcome to beat me black and blue during our next sparring lesson," he offered. "Then, we'll match."

"For awhile, at least." The Dread Pirate's hat sat jauntily by the ottoman. Kahina took it and plunked it on top of Levi's head. "Keep this, Mighty Gregory, for the memory," she said, her eyes growing sad.

Levi angled the rim rakishly on his head, steering Kahina away from her darkening mood. "I planned to anyway. Poofy hats aren't your style."


	19. Decision

It is a clear late summer evening when the sky cracks open. Moments before it does, Oswald, the newly-anointed Duke of the Baskervilles, races to the Tower. His face is stern and determined, a mask over the seething rage beneath. Branches whip past him, but he cuts any tree limb in his way with hacks of his sword.

"Your Grace!" From the trees emerge a couple. The Grand Duke and Duchess, cousins of the King.

"Please Duke Baskerville, your guardsmen, they are leading an insurrection!" cried the Grand Duke. "One of your senior officers has murdered His Majesty! You must do something!"

Oswald grimaces and runs his sword across the man's gut. His wife screams, but the noise is cut off as his blade slices through her throat.

"By the Will of the World, may your next life be long and peaceful," he prays, quickly, and runs further ahead.

Inside the soul of Glen, Levi gives a hoot as the nobles collapse to the ground. "Oh, I always disliked those two!" he says gleefully. "Good show, good show!"

Up ahead, a different Oswald from a different time in another body also makes his way through the trees. Cheshire Cat artfully jumps through the branches ahead of him, eluding his grasp, dragging Alice behind him.

A loud crashing noise echoes through the forest followed by the sharp cracking of tree trunks being gouged through. The three stop their mad chase. Bits of wood and splinters fly through the air, ripped apart by a giant black claw. From beneath the hulking figure of Oz the B-Rabbit, another walks forward.

Levi warns his fellow occupants witnessing these events, but doubts spirit Oswald is playing any attention to his past self. "Oswald, I don't think this will come to any good. Cover your eyes, and I'll tell you when it's over."

Leo speaks behind him, curled up in a ball. His disgust is as apparent as Levi's joy. "Don't you know what'll happen anyway? Weren't you already watching from here then too?"

"Oh, I was around at the time, but got distracted by other things, Leo. Completely missed out!" He propped his chin on a closed fist.  _If I only recognized what had been occurring in the material world, could I have…?_

 _No, this is only entertainment,_  he berated himself.  _Don't invest too deeply in such a pointless tale!  
_

Watching into the past, he sees Jack put a hand to his chest disalarmingly, favoring his wounded arm. "That blood on your clothes... It's not only yours is it?"

Oz the B-Rabbit lifts a mighty paw and swipes at the young Duke.

"You left behind a trail of corpses on your way here, didn't you? How terrible..."

Oswald barely dodges the blow, swinging down his sword trying to cut the paw in half. But the Chain moves too quickly and his sword barely brushes against the flesh.

"How dare you say that after what you've done, Jack!"

"Hmmmm, this is bad…" Levi thinks aloud, a habit he had fallen into over the decades. "Oswald has sent all of his chains to stop the destruction of the chains sustaining this world. He won't be able to defeat the B-rabbit in that condition."

Current Oswald clenches his sword. The conversation between his past self and past Jack takes place only a few meters away. Levi wonders if present Oswald would make a move to attack his friend from the future, but instead, he swerves and turns toward Alice once more. Immediately, the Cheshire Cat leaps between them (now that's a twist Levi hadn't seen coming, knowing that the Cheshire survived. Too bad more worthy characters - like that dashing white-haired swordsman, or Leo's good friend Elliot - weren't able to scrape by the same way.) Levi notices Alice dashing toward the Tower and lifts his eyebrows in response.

 _She's become such a strong young woman since I first encountered her,_  he thinks.  _Lacie would've been proud._

Jack waves a hand and his Chain attacks using another swipe. Oswald lands, crouching, panting from the exertion. Levi knows that the young man is already vulnerable minus the help of his Chains, and physically weakened from the battling out of the castle and racing to the Tower. Though he can easily surmise what happens next, he still feels invested in what happens to these distant characters.

"Hey Glen, why are you so angry?"

"You don't get it?"

"I don't. I just wanted to make Lacie's wish come true. And yet you..."

"And in order to do that, in order to do something as trivial as that, you wouldn't mind destroying the whole world?" Past Oswald lunges and Levi snaps, "Oswald, stop playing the offensive. There's an opening-"

_Crash!_

The B-Rabbit's paw pins him to a tree. One claw stabs right through his heart and Levi presses his own chest in sympathy.

Their conversation is an uncanny parallel to a debate Levi was having back then. He frowns. Some coincidence, indeed, but he knew no one - not Jack nor Oswald, not his past self nor Kahina - had been right in the end. Because the ending became futile...

"Exactly. Do you find that strange? Well, I guess that definitely is strange. Jack Vessalius exists exactly here and nowhere. Your description was accurate, Glen. You see, I don't really know who I am anymore."

As Oswald struggles in the B-Rabbit's hold, Jack continues his villain monologue. Levi thinks it is particularly engaging at first-just the right amount of sorrow coupled with a dash of authentic unbalanced personality to make the viewer believe Jack as sympathetic, but also completely unhinged.

As Jack goes on, Levi takes a moment to reflect upon the characters of Jack and Levi drawn from his own memories (they had replayed for him hundreds of times for the past century, so he can't help but compare how the Jack he knew had evolved since Levi's living tale ended).

 _I can't believe at any point Levi thought Jack Vessalius shared his mindset,_  he ruminates.  _But then again, Levi had been alone for so long with his own plans, and I suppose he thought he could've used Jack as some sort of co-conspirator after Lacie went through with her decision. How tragic, really, that neither character knew what was to come..._

"...And because of all that, I reached a point where, I could no longer tell what face I was wearing..."

_Levi probably thought he was being crafty leading this poor chump on, planting those ideas about Lacie and the world. That fellow knew what conclusion Jack would eventually come to: the world needed to, inevitably, end. The only difference between them is how Levi unfolded his plot in the background while Jack is strutting about like some romantic hero onstage, hamming it up. Ugh, how much will this man ramble on? It's getting kind of tedious..._

"...And right now, I'm about to kill you, because you are a hindrance."

The claw sinks in further. Past Oswald grunts pathetically. The B-Rabbit removes his hold. Bright red arterial blood gushes out Oswald's chest. Levi feels something rip in his own, seeing his child hurt. He laughs, lowly. "Poor Oswald, my foolish boy…Oh, but don't worry, Oswald," he calls out again to the spirit fighting the cat Chain, "You shouldn't see this part. Go play with Cheshire."

Leo, watching behind Levi, visibly winces. The boy is on his hands and knees, barely moving after the last time present-spirit Oswald had cast him aside.

The sound of flesh ripping as the Chain roars.

Past Oswald collapses to the ground.

The present Oswald turns Leo's head, away from his battle with the cat.

"The bad part's over now," Levi says consolingly. "I think."

Jack continues his explanation as he steps around his best friend's bleeding, dying body. About how he grew to hate Lacie before hating himself. But through this self-loathing he realized he could actually feel. On the ground, past Oswald lays gasping; he is bleeding out. With the Abyss being unstable, he can't draw in enough power to heal properly.

Carefully, Jack kneels down and strokes the hair out of Oswald's eyes. The black-haired man lifts his gaze, his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out. Jack rubs his thumb down the dying man's cheek as the first tears glisten.

"So as long as I have Lacie, I know who I am. Both feeling the pain of being apart from her and recalling the soothing joy of her touch, made me feel... alive." He rises.

"Oh, oh, here's the moment, Leo." Levi gestures to the outside world. "I think we're coming to the best part of Jack's little speech."

Jack throws his arms behind him, tears pouring down his face. "That's right! I want to feel alive! And to do that, I need Lacie!"

Levi clasps a hand to his mouth. "Pffff, this guy is an endless source of entertainment."

From behind him, Leo asks in a small voice, "Is that Jack Vessalius?"

The boy isn't keeping proper track of the characters? Seriously now, what had he been doing this whole time while Levi observed? Wallowing in angst?

A growl. "Selfish."

"Hm?" Levi turns.

Leo slams his fist on the watery ground. "So damned selfish! Jack… you… and Glen too...You're selfish. You all are!"

Of course. Levi knows he was never a selfless person, then and now. The world is unfair - but particularly unfair to him and everyone he loves and everyone that had existed before him and will exist afterward. It only takes an immense amount of ego to attempt to change anything, and the belief no one else has the willpower to do it.

But even Levi lacked the ability to do what he intended. He had his own opportunity during the Tragedy and squandered it.

Not that Levi has regrets. After all of the reveals in this fantastic 'tale', Levi is content about the role he had played. Regret only exists for those with the desire to reverse their mistakes. As Oswald is foolishly determined to do right now, despite the consequences...

He puts his hands at his hips. "That's right," he drawls, "and here you are, incapable of opposing this selfishness."

* * *

"Levi, it's happened."

"What has?" He suspected, since she already had been going through bouts of nausea and sickness the past few weeks. He had been waiting for her to confirm this to him personally.

"I didn't want to say during the first two months, but now I'm certain."

He placed a hand on her stomach. His eyes widened a bit. "So we put in all that extra work for nothing, eh?" He chuckled. "Congratulations!"

Lacie wrapped her arms about her torso and gazed out the Tower window. Levi sipped his tea. In books, news like this would be a cause for celebration for the happy couple. At least Levi was certainly relieved. This morning, he woke in a pool of his own blood and black motes flashing across his right eye. His vision was bound to go very soon, probably after the transfer of the Jabberwock. "Who's the sire?"

"You must be joking."

"I'm not." He lowered the cup. "Had you and Jack ever-"

"No." She shook her head. Her plate of food lay before her, untouched. She had been taking meals in the Tower more often the past few weeks.

"What a shame," he tsked. "Because if only I was a few years younger..."

"There's something you should know about Jack." She frowned and Levi waited expectantly. Instead, she sighed and waved a hand aside. "Never mind," she said brightly. "C'mon, let me show you something."

Pushing back her seat, she took his hand and led them to the old playroom. "It's my own little project."

"Oh?"

In the corner was a wooden chest made of walnut and solid brass fittings. She brushed her hand across its lacquered surface. "I'd been spending time in Lady Celia's cottage," she explained, "She said that she'd leave me one of her working looms and some of her old materials to care for while she traveled." Opening the latches, she lifted the cover. A spread of bright colors lay before them. All wool and dyed cotton and colored silks. Lacie smiled smugly.

"I'm not as good as her, but here's what I got!" She took out a red and white checkered dress, bedecked with a white bow. "Ta-da!"

Levi picked it up, held it by the sleeves. "A girl?" he asked, referring to the color choice.

"I just have a feeling." She removed the other items to show them off. Piles and piles of baby clothes. Cloth diapers. Hankies with flowers and birds embroidered along the edge. Three swaddling blankets made of Celia's softest wool.

"I don't know how much this will be needed, but," she traced the scalloped trim of the last baby blanket, made in the colors of valor, hope, and cheer, "make sure she gets them somehow, would you?"

"Certainly."

For the first time in weeks, he saw a genuine smile cross her face. That feeling happy couples got in books finally bloomed between them.

* * *

That afternoon, he lingered in the Tower, buoyed by this news of Lacie's pregnancy. He let Lacie call the vessel "her" and "she" but he strongly didn't want to make assumptions and referred to the future offspring as "it."

Lacie chatted on and on all about her potential child and pulled out several storybooks to hunt up good names for them. Levi, being the writer, managed to toss out some suggestions, but she wrinkled her nose upon them all.

Not once, however, did she mention whether this actuality of a child changed her opinion. Months ago, on a snowy day, she announced her willingness to die. Even now, was this decision still in place? Why make all of these future plans - baby clothes, name-choosing - while highly aware of not being part of this future?

After afternoon tea, she excused herself to take a nap and Levi sat by her reclining couch, novel in hand. The pages soon blurred before him and he sighed, loosening his cravat and the front of his shirt. No more reading today, not until his sight settled for a bit.

Tilting his head backwards, he let his eyes shut. He tried to decipher the myriad of feelings inside him. Overwhelming triumph, of course, was the main part. Looking over at her, a blanket draped across her bare shoulders, breathing gently, she was a splendid picture of expectant motherhood. He glanced down at his deteriorating form and scoffed. He was the complete opposite of fatherhood.

A small noise came from the couch. Levi went over to tuck the blanket more firmly around her when she stirred abruptly. A slight groan escaped her lips and Levi stopped, hands hovering, wondering what was going on. Was this another morning sickness aspect? Should he wake her?

She tossed to the other side. A tear escaped the corner of one closed eye.

"Lacie..."

Her shoulders trembled and her eyes fluttered. Levi quickly moved back to his seat and picked up the book as she bolted awake. Lacie rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair.

"You were moaning quite a bit." He observed her for a moment as she gathered her bearings and shut the book. "I am profoundly interested in what sort of dream frightened you so much."

She sat up, blinked a few times, and finally registered where she was. Glen still had his arms partly-raised, and the front collar of his shirt undone. "Glen..." she mumbled, "That body...it's falling apart."

"What the hell? What kind of answer is that?" He touches his chest. "Well, I won't deny it. As you've pointed out, this body has reached its limit."  _And you are reaching yours too. But what kind of thoughts are going through that mysterious mind of yours, my darling?_

He decided to be blunt in his reminder. "Rejoice Lacie. Five days from now, I will transfer Jabberwock, the last chain in my body, to Oswald. When that ritual has been completed, your brother will inherit the Glen name..." He bent his wrist flippantly. "And you will happily say goodbye to this world."

In return, Lacie smiled. In the next room over was her trousseau, the contents unpacked and piled all over the floor.

"Lacie, tell me." Levi folded his hands in his lap. "What did you dream about?"

"You." She yawned. "And Oswald. The first time we saw your cabinet of curiosities on the day you told me that I was going to die."

"Please interpret my last remark as entirely coincidental then."

"I will."

"I was always sorry about that incident, y'know."

"Be sorry all you want, Levi, it happened. But I've accepted it. And you." A crooked smile.

Voices from outside cut into the conversation. He glanced out the window and observed Oswald pulling Jack out of the bushes by the Tower. Jack Vessalius, his candidate, now rendered pretty superfluous at this point. If Lacie suspected she was pregnant for the last three months, why hadn't Jack been dismissed earlier?

They chatted a bit about the unusual fellowship the two men had, especially since Oswald left such a bad impression upon Jack, and vice versa.

"If you ask me, those two are already friends," Lacie summed up, stretching her arms.

Did she keep Jack around for Oswald's sake perhaps? Someone for him to latch onto once both of them disappeared? Or was there another motivation?

"I'm surprised... Jack is so well-liked."

"True. Big brother doesn't do that very often."

"No, I meant you, Lacie." He leaned over on the sofa and reclined a hand behind her head. "At first I thought you were simply being capricious, but it's lasted an unusually long while this time." An unreadable smile. "So even you would become attached to a puppy that yearned eight whole years for you, hmmm?"

A useless but lovable man. A woman destined to die. A corrupted mentor who failed in his goals for them. Levi supposed Jack had won Lacie's elusive heart and she can't bear to throw the world away, even at the cost of her future parenthood, for the sake of this one loyal dog. What a pretty fairy tale!

Her expression darkened. "It bothers me."

"Hmm?"

"I'm not his lover or his mother. I'm simply playing with Jack." Her expression became ironically grim. "Five more days. I'm only using him to kill time until I get dropped into the Abyss."

Levi knew her better than to simply accept her bitter front. So she was determined to be dropped and die? What strange nobility! It irked him, reminded him of the way Kahina spat, "Blasphemy" in his face moments before he killed her. The thought of Lacie acting in this same lamb-like manner lit a remaining flame of resentment Levi hadn't even realized existed.

A slow grin, parallel to that devil's smirk he gave to Kahina years ago, crossed his face.

"Planning to cherish every sweet moment with your one true love, darling? Maybe you should tell Jack your feelings before the end."

"Why don't you believe me when I say he's nothing but a toy?"

"Because I know you." He touched her face, eyelids lowered. "I've seen how you are with him. He... comforts you, doesn't he?"

"If you want me to be truly honest, Levi, I will. Because you remain the jealous one."

He recoiled at her returning smirk.

"When I'm with Jack," she said, "I feel nothing, and that is the most pleasant feeling of all."

"Oh." He didn't know what to make of her answer, of the cool way Lacie held his gaze. "How selfish of you."

* * *

Lacie walked into the courtyard of the Tower, long after Oswald had left. Five days passed so quickly and she sent Jack off packing under the guise of preparing for Oswald's coronation ceremony as the new head of the Baskervilles. She remembered the sweet, clueless smile on his face, and the shadowed figure of him in the forest remained in her mind's eye.

Cicadas chirped softly. Summer was upon the land and the air already was damp from the humidity. Lacie thought about how in as little as 48 hours from then, she would not be there to walk in the courtyard any longer. Even these cicadas, those nasty bugs, would exist longer than she.

A memory resurfaced from long ago, connected to her recent dream of the past. Levi had pulled her aside in his cabinet to offer her the most dangerous idea one could give a Child of Misfortune.

_"When the time does come, darling, remember. You always have a choice not to be dropped."_

The seven-year-old Lacie clung to that line for years afterward until Levi revealed another, darker truth about her impending death because she was nothing but a danger to the Abyss, and again, he offered her two of the worst things he could. The rebellion of independent thought and a legacy's hope.

_"To tell you the truth, I shouldn't have shared the reason you'll be dropped into the Abyss with you. But I did so as myself, not because I am Glen." That deceptively warm smile of his. "Say, Lacie, if you're going to die anyway, how about you assist me in an experiment while you're still alive?"_

Lacie wanted to live and leave a mark in the world. She wanted to know everything she could while there was time. When given the choice to love and embrace the world, she did. She loved everything, she absorbed it all. Experiences, feelings, people. She swallowed them whole and broke them down deep into herself in the same way the Abyss would eventually swallow her entire existence.

But for all Lacie had taken in, all she embraced, part of her always knew it was a lie. She had the illusion of accepting everything, loving everything, because she could not stop the inevitable. She enjoyed life, felt it in her bones, but her thirst for everything in itself felt forced and false. She had no choice but to die so she made herself live in rejection of her death.

That in itself meant her enjoyment of life was not a true decision on her part, but the least painful way she could survive without falling into utter despair.

Hadn't she told Oswald how she wasn't actually strong, only ten times more cynical than the average person?

_"I shall be lonely if you disappear..."_

"You're so pure, Oswald," she whispered. "May you always remain that way."

Lacie made her way to the edge of the courtyard. She slumped against the sprawling roots of an oak tree. Jack too - the man who made her feel nothing, the man who contained an emptiness inside she took solace in. Somehow, she knew he'd move on too, one way or another. Still, this was Jack's fault, his and Oswald's, for opening up this darkness she had kept locked inside of her heart for so long...

"This isn't like me at all..."

The thoughts crowded into her head, an unstoppable flood from her breaking heart.

_I'm disappearing from this world...I can't be with you anymore...and I didn't fully realize until now, how lonely this makes me feel..._

Destroy the world or destroy yourself, Levi had explained many times over the years. You have a choice not to be dropped.

Lacie sensed her Chain, unnamed even after all this time, lurking beneath her fingertips. One command, and she could have everything. A life, a family, a future. At the cost of an entire universe.

She had the complete freedom to choose personal salvation or complete annihilation.

Hours passed. The moon rose and fell. Sitting in the swarm of glistening lights, she finally decided.

* * *

Levi was in bed when Lacie arrived in the middle of the night, fully dressed. Wordlessly, she slipped under his duvet, yanked the bedclothes around her, and buried her face in Levi's pillows.

"Lacie-?"

"Don't say anything. Please."

They laid together in silence. Levi gathered Lacie to him, spooned her against his frail and wounded chest. The pressure of her body sent a dull pain radiating through his torso, but he ignored it and held her even tighter. She didn't cry, didn't move, didn't respond to his touch, as if she had become living stone in his arms.

Finally, he asked, "Tell me, please, and be truthful. Whatever you say, I will accept and we shall move forward from there." In the dim bedside lamplight, Lacie became as unknowable as the divine. "Do you want to be dropped?"

He felt her breathe. No tears, but he sensed something shifting deep inside.

"No, I want to live. But I don't want this world to go away, either."

"Why?" Levi was literally dying from curiosity. He taught her differently. Why is she sharing these same pointless ideals he tried so hard to disavow?

"I want our child to know this world exists. Because this is where we come from, even though we won't exist here anymore."

"Hmmmm. Fascinating."

"Of course you'd say that, Levi." She buried her head into his chest. "Why can't this emptiness go away? All these years, and somehow, I thought..."

He wanted to say, "I love you." Simply and impulsively, how a child would, the way his mother always did. But he didn't, because he feared the words would become meaningless once said, especially at this moment.

"But have you truly led an empty life?" he asked. "You had all the riches and freedom one could be permitted. You and your brother explored another realm, gained knowledge most humankind will never realize. You've known countless admirers. You even befriended an entity equivalent to a god."

"So are you calling me ungrateful to want more? I'd rather live an insignificant life for a hundred lifetimes than die forever."

He stroked her cheek. "I'm only pointing out some facts."

"Fine. I'm selfish. Thank you again, Glen, for reminding me." Her body aligned with his and her breath moved hot against his throat. "I've a wicked little heart, but you're absolutely heartless, aren't you?"

He ran his hands through her hair. "Would it satisfy to know you aren't the first person to notice?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Book of Levi; And Other Fantastic Fairy Tales will continue on February 8th, 2015.
> 
> Find story art, fanmixes more at the-book-of-levi on tumblr. We also currently have a reader giveaway running between now and Feb 15th; see our tumblr for more info on how to enter.
> 
> Your reviews are greatly appreciated.


	20. And the World Was Gone

"Your Grace."

_"Come fetch ye merry gentlemen,  
_ _For the lambs have come to play..."_

Levi sang softly to himself, rolling the top half of Kahina's broken staff between both hands. The lower half sat across his lap. Since the ceremony's end, he refused to let them go. Fang did his best to cast a smokescreen of solemnity about the newly-coronated Duke immediately afterwards, escorting him personally to his chambers and attending to him for the past day or so. Lady Celia was the only other person allowed in his rooms. Upon seeing her, Levi offered a distant smile and a tune under his breath, his docileness and calm frightening them both to the core.

_"Why must we wait 'til our time's end,  
_ _When youth and pride won't stay?"_

"Duke Baskerville."

"Hmmm?" A placid smile.

His head of security placed a hand on the other man's shoulders. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Of course. We have to wait for Lady Kahina to come back to us, don't we, Mr. Fang?"

"Erm, in a way." Levi had disposed of the body past the Gate, and as tradition stipulated, it was his duty to see that the corpse of the past Glen Baskerville had been accepted into the Abyss. By now it would've changed into its Chain form, which the Baskervilles must note for future recruits. Whoever contracted this Chain would be automatically promoted to be part of the new Glen's personal guard. The body of the past Glen was naturally attracted to the soul of the present Glen, so it was Levi and Fang, as the eldest of his guard, who held vigil inside the Abyss.

Fang had entered the Gate many times before, but this particular duty was always a painful one to witness. Over the generations, he had seen old Glens pass and new Glens be born upon the wake of the Children being dropped, and the process always pulled at his heartstrings. He tried to be a hand of experience to guide the young leaders in what perhaps was the most painful duty they'd ever go through in their career as the Baskerville leader. He remembered the stoicism of some; the rage of others; the grief of all.

No one can predict how any Glen would react after the coronation. The first Glen he had served under threw a week-long orgy after dropping his wife into the Abyss, and at the end of the week promptly had each participant's head cut off and remained celibate until his death. The second Glen proved more steadfast; Glen saw her shed only a few tears when the Child died and the old Glen left, but she never spoke their names aloud again. The third went mad and tried to light themselves on fire. And so on and so forth. Fang had high hopes Kahina taught Levi strength and resilience in the face of loss, yet feared his predecessor couldn't have anticipated exactly what this Glen would do.

"She'll return." Levi hummed under his breath. "She told me she would."

"Your Grace," Fang said, "you know this will be her Chain, not her old self."

"Certainly. She told me that too."

A worm of discomfort entered the old northerner. He shifted his standing position and crossed his arms.

"Master Levi, Lady Kahina isn't here anymore. She resides where the Will wishes her to."

The younger man snapped his head at him. "I'm not an idiot," he said flatly. "She speaks in my head. They all do."

This was worse than Fang suspected. "Are they there right now?" he edged.

"No, I sent them away. I never want to hear from them again." Levi beamed at him. "I'm sure Lady Kahina is upset, but I refused their counsel."

And again, he continued:

_"Come fetch ye pretty maidens,_  
 _While death's wolves be kept at bay,_  
 _And may we find our hearts again,  
_ _Before our lives be wast'd away."_

"Oh, Mr. Fang." Levi gripped the pieces of the staff in both hands and suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Over here!" He waved the wood like a conductor. Fang turned his head in their direction. Through the pastel-colored mists and twinkling specks of light, a swift form darted toward them.

"Hello there!" Levi greeted. The Chain halted about fifty yards away and observed with stern, earth-toned eyes. It flicked its tail to and fro. The Chain's golden pelt glistened in the glowing lights and its full and flowing mane, the color of summer wheat, reminded Fang of her twisted braids. The Abyss held many mysteries inside itself, and every time one unfolded before Fang's eyes, he was left breathless.

An unspoken communication passed between the three of them before the Chain bounded through the Abyss until it became nothing but a speck in the distance.

The Duke tucked the staff pieces beneath one arm and gave a small sigh. "Good-bye, Leon."

* * *

"G'morning, Your Grace!" Levi peeks into Oswald's rooms, unannounced otherwise, and spots the twenty-eighth of his kind sitting before his boudoir, listless. The plate of breakfast sent up hours ago remains cold and untouched on the table next to him. Levi waltzes in, picks up a slice of stale toast, and bites into it as he approaches his young ward.

"Your responsibilities await, Oswald, and I request your assistance."

The black-haired youth doesn't reply. Any time before this, Levi would've credited this to Oswald's natural lethargy when it comes to mornings (he hates getting up early and usually isn't cognizant until after the third cup of tea). But, in the days since Lacie's departure, a part of Oswald seems to have gone with her.

Levi takes a gulp of Oswald's cold tea to get the grainy texture out of his mouth. "Your monthly inspection of the guard is due. This time, we have a new slew of recruits, and you need to be there to confirm anyone assigned as part of your entourage."

"I don't care." Oswald stares at his reflection dully.

"Oh?" Levi places his hands upon Oswald's shoulders. "I never asked you to care, dear boy," he says lowly. "In fact, however you want to mourn your sister is fine with me. But I honestly don't think Lacie would've wanted you to stop your life for her sake."

He shrugs him off. "But I was the one who stopped hers."

"Oswald." Levi props his chin upon Oswald's shoulder, wraps his arms around the man's unresponsive form. "You only did your duty. Wouldn't you agree?"

A small nod.

Levi recalls the moment Lacie was cast away. He had made it especially intimate: none of the guard or the staff knew beforehand when Lacie's rejection would take place. The three of them entered the coronation room in the small hours of the night, and Levi hoped to keep this privacy until a silvery shadow flickered into existence from the corner...

* * *

"You again." Levi had openly sneered.

Oswald and Lacie were startled as Jury emerged, her ancient features unchanged since when they last saw her as children. Oswald wrapped a protective arm around his sister and glared daggers at her. "Stay away!" he shouted. Lacie only watched, wide-eyed as if witnessing a nightmare come to life.

"All hail Glen Baskerville." The old woman gave a toothless grin. "I only came to witness young Oswald's first act as leader."

Levi stepped between them, holding out a hand before the strange being. "Listen, Your Grace, this hag cannot hurt us. Remember what I told you long ago?" He let a bit of uncustomary loathing creep into his usually lighthearted tones. "Her job is to watch over Glen Baskerville and ensure he does his duties."

"Indeed. You've done yours surprisingly well, Levi Baskerville." The disturbing grin widened just a bit beyond human capabilities, as if she possessed the jaws of a reptile. "But we feared you might try something before your end arrives."

Oswald turned his expression to Levi and blanched. "Master Gl- um, Master Levi...?"

"The old woman has a point." Levi spread this hands wide. "But we can address those matters after this one, please. We mustn't keep the lady waiting."

The two siblings hugged, tightly, before Lacie broke their hold. Levi wondered if she would go to him, but she didn't, instead kneeling down on the unforgiving stone as Jury took her place alongside the wall behind her. With her grayish cast and grotesque features, she resembled a gargoyle placed between the two angel statues. Levi moved to watch Oswald's back, specifically so he, too, could glimpse Lacie's final moments and lowered the lantern he carried to place by his feet. He and Lacie exchanged one last expression: an enigmatic smile from her, while Levi put a finger to his lips.

The young Duke's voice came out surprisingly strong as he placed an authoritative hand upon her head. "Lacie Baskerville. With my Chain of Condemnation, I hereby pronounce judgment on you." His elbow buckled upon the last word and he said no more.

An expression of serenity overcame Lacie's features. "What's wrong, big brother? Finish me off quick."

Oswald drew back, seemed to regain his composure, and said, "Your sin... is..."

He cleared his throat and the rest came out in a rush. Witnessing this all, Levi felt a pang of familiarity. He also remembered words he once told Oswald one night, very late, when they sat together and watched a meteor shower as they spoke about his duties as Glen:

_"The Child of Misfortune is born from the existence of Glen Baskerville. It is your responsibility to properly dispose of what you created."_

"..that you were born with those eyes of ill omen, and that you are a threat to the peace of the Abyss."

His hand lifted. Again, came the chains. Again, the light, opening like the unknown pit to an unforeseeable hell.

This time around, Levi couldn't bear to smile.

Before she left, however, he saw her eyes widen momentarily (from pain of the chains? from the shock of the force already aimed at ripping her apart?) A loving expression draped over her features, pure and genuine. The despairing woman who had huddled in Levi's arms only the night before was no more, replaced by something immensely strong and unspeakably beautiful.

That moment, Lacie resembled another woman Levi loved.

Then, her lips moved, as the whirling wind roared in their ears. Oswald jerked backwards. Since Levi wasn't facing him, he had no idea how to discern what she said by the expression on his face.

Lacie vanished.

And the world was gone.

Oswald collapsed to his knees, the sound making a sharp crack against the floor. He and Levi stared long at the spot where she had been.

Then, a low chuckle resonated. Oswald snapped to attention toward the crone.

"What?" he growled.

"Time for your second act as Glen," she said.

"And that is?"

"To judge the past Glen for protecting the Child," Levi answered. Oswald slowly pivoted around, his expression turning slack and then rageful.

"How dare you!" Oswald yelled at Jury. He rose to his feet, pointed an accusing finger. "How dare you tell me this!"

"Oh?" Jury twisted her head in an unsettling way much resembling an owl. "Levi never explained beforehand?"

"My predecessor hadn't." Levi shrugged. "Thus, I never considered it one of my duties as Glen."

"The old Glen cannot live while the new Glen exists," Jury declared.

"Who says? You? But under whose authority do you act? Aren't you only a mere witness?" Levi folded his arms. "I say that we let Oswald choose."

Jury rapped her cane upon the ground. "Never! We cannot permit it."

"He's the most powerful person in this room, and it's his duty to say what is permitted and what is not. Oswald," Levi bent one knee, "do you wish to judge me?"

The man had every reason, if he knew the truth. A tiny part of Levi didn't want to be the winner of his wager, and yet the breath he held in came out sharply as the new Duke answered.

Oswald's eyes narrowed at Jury. "This I vow: I will  _never_  place judgment on Levi Baskerville as long as he lives."

"Ha ha!" Levi slapped a hand to his thigh. "Well, would you look at that." He took Oswald's arm in his; the young man seethed in anger and grief but reluctantly moved toward the exit before deciding to outpace Levi, stone-faced. His cape flared behind him as he pushed his way through the double-doors and into the darkened hallway.

Levi picked up his lantern from the ground and followed Oswald out. As he passed Jury, he flashed her a wicked grin before the entity vanished in a defeated howl.

Lacie had left this world, never to return, but at that moment, Jury was gone and so was the Council, transferred out of Levi's head the moment Oswald had taken all of his powers. The only power which remained was the loyalty pledge imprinted upon Oswald as a child, one Jury had done herself. The final card Levi had yet to play.

As the two departed, despite his brittle and decaying limbs, Levi put a bit of bounce in his step. For the first time since his forced promise as a boy, he walked unfettered and free.

* * *

Oswald refuses to leave his rooms for his monthly guard inspection, so it is Levi who meets Fang, master of the new recruits, in the courtyard later that morning.

"Mr. Fang, I apologize for standing in for the Duke." He stands by the old northerner, shields his eyes against the noonday sun as he sees the row of fresh red capes before him.

"Master Levi, your presence is welcome." Fang looks genuinely glad; rare it is nowadays that Levi makes time doing anything for his former teacher and security advisor. He hadn't asked Levi about Lacie or Oswald, though he well knows the state of them both. The Baskerville stopped by Levi's rooms the other night and caught the dying man up in a great bear hug. "Praise Glen Baskerville," he had said, "for bestowing the charity I could not."

Levi now puts a hand to his chin. "I see something different about you today."

"Oh this?" A curling black tattoo marks the left side of his face. Levi recognizes it as a demon branding mark from the lowlands, where villagers are particularly superstitious. "I suppose I wanted a change. Doug went along with this too."

"But a demon mark? Why-?" Levi's eyebrow arches when he sees a ginger-haired girl in the line of recruits. The same tattoo twists around one side of her heart-shaped face.

One of the few stories he had heard about Fang Baskerville rose in his memory. "Mr. Fang," he breathes, "she's but a child-"

"Fang!" A young woman rushes over to the pair, her red cape fluttering in the wind. Her pale pink locks are tied up in a circlet of braids and are only a shade lighter than her rose-colored eyes. She stops before them, huffing, and curtsies hastily. "I beg your pardon, sir, for being late for inspection."

"You're not late at all, Miss Lottie." Fang watches as she takes her place beside the little marked girl. That girl, visibly nervous, suddenly smiles as her presence and Lottie takes a moment to adjust the ribbon in the maiden's hair.

Could it be-? Levi is not one to believe his own fairy tales, but...

"Once upon a time," he murmurs, "do I recall hearing that Mr. Fang had a wife-?"

"You heard rightly." Fang can't keep his eyes off the pair. "She passed on centuries ago, when she was expecting." He clears his throat abruptly and moves on in a business-like manner, "Charlotte and Lily Baskerville received their Chains a fortnight ago. Miss Lily's is nothing notable - a mongrel Chain called Bandersnatch. Miss Lottie, however, has been granted one we'd been waiting for a while to appear. Miss Lottie," he calls, "please summon your Chain for Master Levi."

Lottie gives a smart salute and a gesture of her hand. Emerging over her head, a great feline leaps out of thin air and lands, gracefully, at her feet.

"This is Leon," she says as the lion rubs its head against her palm. The crown the Chain wears glints in the sunlight.

"Miss Lottie, congratulations," Levi says, his voice growing wistful. "You've been selected as part of Glen Baskerville's personal guard."

The inspection goes on, and strangely, despite all the grief Levi had experienced and witnessed recently, it reassures him to know some patterns of history prove to work for the better.


	21. Alice

_Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzzz._

A low vibrating noise distracts Levi from his writing. He looks about his study nook. No midnight ghosts call to him. No fairies peek out of windows to tempt him. No angel trumpets blast divinity down his throat.

He feels a bit whimsical as the buzzing noise continues. How long will it take for him to get up from his desk and start looking for the source?

Before him is a project he has been working on and off upon for most of his adult life. He had secured one more postponement from his publisher, for he realized there had been a missing tale he wants to add before he declared the manuscript complete. Unlike his pulp adventures, which appear as newspaper serials and then bound into a final manuscript and published, this collection he's kept hidden away and only worked upon when he feels the most reflective. Levi isn't a man who indulges in pure vanity, but he does contain some small desire that sometime long after he is gone from this mortal world, a careful reader would be able to discern the facts out of this particular fiction.

_Zzzzzzzzz._

"All right," he says aloud. Every motion of his body makes it ache and he fumbles a bit as he shuffles though the piles of books, papers, discarded food plates, bits of cloth and string, and other various sundries scattered throughout the room. Finally, at the bottom of a pile of aged dissertations about the outer realms of the atmosphere, he finds it.

It is one of his old seismic barometers, one of the improved versions he had created years ago when Oswald and Lacie navigated the Abyss. The needle on the meter bounces from side to side. The tuning fork attached to the end shakes so much it emits a low hum into the air.

The Abyss is reacting to something. Something significant.

Levi may have lost nearly all ability to safely travel through the other realm, but it doesn't mean he is helpless.

He tosses the instrument aside, throws on his cloak, and hurries out of his library to Oswald's rooms.

A Baskerville stands watch at the leader's door. Fang must have assigned them out of worry for the state of Oswald's mental health.

"Quickly, we must rouse His Grace!"

The figure lowered their hood. "Master Levi," Lottie gasps, "what is happening-?"

"Urgent matters. Glen business only. Quite sorry." Levi flies past her and already sees Oswald dressed and standing by the balcony doors. Moonlight falls over his pale figure as he stares up at the stars.

"Oswald." Levi halts. "Did you sense it?"

"Yes." Oswald sighs. "The Abyss is disturbed, isn't it?"

"We have to investigate why." Mainly, Levi has to know, because he suspects...

Did it work? Did his experiment work?

Oswald catches Levi's expression. "If we must," he resigns.

The two men depart for the Gate. Levi's joints don't function as well as he wants and he feels his knees begin to give way half-way up the staircase.

"Curse this ruined body." He grits his teeth as he pauses, wincing in pain. "Oswald, go ahead and find out-"

"Master." Oswald carefully lifts Levi up. As if Levi weighed no more than a boy (perhaps so, with all the weight he's lost), Oswald heaves the older man onto his back and ascends. Levi grips Oswald's shoulders as he bounces along no better than a sack of flour. He gives his former manservant a bemused smile as Oswald carries him the rest of the way.

The Gate stands ajar. By the Gate, Oswald had created a sort of memorial for Lacie: burning candles, flowers, her favorite books, a few childhood toys she had kept throughout her life. Next to it, a small person is rummaging through the memorial, overturning the vase of flowers and scattering everything else.

Incensed, Oswald lowers Levi down immediately. Levi brings a hand to his mouth, but it is Oswald who exclaims:

"Lacie!"

Young Lacie stands before them, dressed in a deep lavender gown. In one tiny fist, she holds a stuffed black rabbit, one of her favorite stuffed animals that Levi had given her. He approaches her, heart racing. Lacie had reverted into a child... She has been ejected from the Abyss...

The girl flourishes the black rabbit in her grip, gives it a sweet look, then promptly bites into its cheek. She blinks, lets go. "Ah." A little half-circle of indents are pressed into its velvet surface. "It's awake!"

Levi stares in utter confusion. Beside him, Oswald is aghast.

The girl giggles.

"Eh...? 'It's awake,'" Levi repeats in a daze, "Is that so...?"

"Uh-huh!" The little girl waves her arm up and down, causing the stuffed toy to thump against the ground each time she did so. "See! Look!" She pushes her arm in Levi's direction, dangling the poor creature, and flashes her teeth in what he hopes is an attempt at being friendly.

"Um, Lacie," Oswald asks, "How can the rabbit be awake?"

"Cuz he was sleeping before! Now he's not." The girl hugs the rabbit to her chest. "And my name's not Lacie. I'm Alice!"

"Alice..."

It is Levi who regains his bearings first. Of course, this being's appearance greatly resembles Lacie, but he notices its eyes. Pure violet, like Oswald's or his own when he was younger. This creature he might not even be human, but in the very least, it's not Lacie.

He scratches his head before crouching down to her height, placing his hands on his creaking knees to steady himself. "Um, well, in any case, first things first. Please find yourself welcome, Alice."

* * *

"Master Levi, what the blazes do you suppose she is?" Oswald hisses under his breath the moment they had a chance alone. Alice hums to herself in the room next door, quite content in the former playroom of the Tower.

The Tower had been kept quite spartan for several years as its last occupant grew up and began removing all of her childhood belongings from the premises. Levi knew, however, Lacie kept her favorite mementos in the walnut-paneled trousseau. The subject known as "Alice" appears to be between the ages of ten and thirteen, though her mental state belies her physical age. Of course, none of the baby clothes fit Alice. They did, however, fit her stuffed rabbit, and Alice is quite taken with outfitting her toy for awhile as the two men surmised what to make of this unusual turn of events.

"A human, as far appearances go."

"But where did she come from? Humans don't come out of the Abyss, not like her."

"Perhaps it's some poor soul who had been caught in the realm a long time ago. We know time passes differently - we could have a little time traveler in our midst."

"It's disconcerting but..." Oswald bites his lower lip. "She bears an awful resemblance to Lacie."

"Maybe that's what truly happens to the Child," Levi muses. "They get changed into another self and ejected into a random era." He knows, of course, the most obvious explanation to everything, but is willing to draw out any alternative options to his ward while he puzzled out his own set of mysteries. Is the Core inside "Alice"? Did the Core purposely displace itself outside of the Abyss? Does that mean it is now subjected to the same mortal and physical forces as the rest of them were?

Across the table, hope glimmers in the young man's eyes. "This Alice may be actually Lacie without her curse..."

"Kyaaaaa!"

Immediately, Oswald rushes into the playroom. Levi follows.

Alice is clambering up the side of a bookshelf, her rabbit held by her teeth.

"Gah! Don't do that, Lacie!" Oswald reaches behind her, tall enough to grab the girl before she could reach her goal, and plunks her onto an ottoman. Levi smiles at the scene, which could've been drawn straight from his own memories of Lacie as a rambunctious scamp.

"I'm not Lacie! I'm Alice!" She crosses her arms and pouts.

"Fine, fine, Alice," Oswald concedes. "What were you trying to do?"

"He wanted to be up high." She gestures to the stuffed rabbit again, tucked under her arm. "He's not used to being stuck in small places."

"Oh?" Levi leans over. "Can you tell us more about where you come from?"

"Maaaaaaaaybe." Her pout deepens and a low growl is distinctly heard from her middle. "But I'm hungry."

"What would you like? We can have the kitchen prepare anything you desire."

"Anything...?" Her violet eyes twinkle in delight as she claps her hands together. "Then I want meat! Lots and lots of meat!"

* * *

Over the course of the month, Levi conducts his investigation of "Alice." For the first time in years, he re-opens his laboratory and cracks open all of his old notes on the Abyss. He can't enter that realm as he had as Glen, but the instruments are able to record residual readings from outside the Gate at least.

Oswald, on the other hand, wants no part. After that first day, Oswald's face would crumple up inside a few minutes while in the girl's presence, and he always promptly leaves the Tower after her meals. Levi is critical of Oswald - he should know better than to be constantly associating "Alice" with his sister. Perhaps Levi is a bit kinder in this perception, or perhaps he is more forgiving of a creature he values for its scientific potential.

Alice lacks the sufficient vocabulary to express everything Levi would like to know, so much of his talks with Alice are actually drawing sessions. Alice is fascinated with colors, and he brings a set of artist pencils, paints, and large swaths of paper to the Tower for her entertainment.

The black stuffed rabbit sits on the table by his elbow as he sets up their latest interview.

"What's that?" he asks, referring to the squiggly rough shape she is painstakingly working on.

"Oz."

Fine motors skills are another thing Alice needs to develop, but she gets the black hue right at least.

"Oz? That's the toy's name?"

"Yes Levi! I just decided it."

He's highly amused. Oswald had shown up but a handful of times these past several weeks, and the girl's already enraptured. For some reason, women have always loved him.

"Also, see here. If Oz is the name you've chosen, this is how you spell it." He reaches over, crosses out the "Os" ( _With a backwards "s,"_  he notes.  _When and where did Alice learn how to read and write in the Abyss?_ ) on the paper and pencils in "Oz."

It's as if Levi had performed a magic trick before the child. "Oooo." Alice stares wide-eyed at the word, then seizes the rabbit from the table ecstatically. "OZ! Oz, Oz, Oz! I'll call you Oz from now on!" Her unabashed enthusiasm is adorable and a bit intimidating to witness. As Alice presses Oz's cheeks against hers, Levi thinks,  _So much energy, just like her mother..._

"I'm glad Oz is happy with his name. How did you get yours?"

"My sister told me."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah. The other Alice. She said our mother named us such." He'd never thought Lacie would choose something so plain for her offspring. Then again, the letters L-A-C-I-E changed to A-L-I-C-E. Levi recalls an old joke Lacie shared with the other outsider who once lived on the Baskerville estate. C-E-L-I-A. Shared letters for two women who were never truly part of the household. Lacie had carried that pattern and applied it to Alice as well. How clever.

"When did you meet your mother?"

"I dunno." A careless toss of the shoulders. "I've only known Alice this whole time."

"I...I see..." A moment of disappointment, but Levi proceeds his line of questioning.

"Oh. What does this... other Alice look like?"

"I can draw her for you."

Levi watches Alice as she works on a new piece of paper. One circle for the head, two sticks for arms, a white triangle of a gown. Long lengths of silvery hair. Red eyes. A little smile.

"Here we are!" Alice flourishes her paper. "That's my sister."

Levi feels touched. "Oh my." He takes the drawing from her.

 _Twins,_ he muses.  _They are twins._

"Y'know," he says, "you shouldn't tell Oswald what your sister looks like. He might get angry."

"Why?"

"Oswald doesn't have a fondness for white-haired people."

"But you have white hair!"

"Exactly."

Later on, in his rooms, Levi affectionately strokes Alice's drawing of the other Alice. White hair, red eyes, pale skin. Family resemblance.

It is the first time he allows himself that admittance and he smiles ruefully as he shakes the thought away. "No. You're not mine. Black Alice and white Alice, you are Lacie's darlings."

Did this other Alice have a human personality? Or was she entirely subsumed by the Core? He did note that, probably because of a lack of human interaction, black Alice lacked many skills a girl her age should know. She does not seem mentally challenged; only time is needed to teach this creature human ways. Is white Alice the same way? Levi will never know.

Still, he doesn't want to invest too much in the idea of white Alice having a separate human personality. More practical to think of her truly as what she had meant to be: a physical vessel containing the Core.

Lacie always said a personality existed in the Core of the Abyss. Should he give her a different name now?

The options flitted across his mind.

"The 'Core'." Too boring. "Little Abyss." Too cutesy. Levi thinks Lacie might kill him for naming her child something too wee.

_How about we name it something easy to understand...?_

He chooses the name that had hounded him throughout his life.

"The Will of the Abyss."

* * *

Oswald knocks on his open bedroom doorway while Levi is in the midst of changing. He glances backward and gives a simple head gesture to bid the Duke to enter.

Levi stands in trousers and a long chemise, unbuttoned. The bandages stretch from chin to navel, making Levi resemble the mummies of ancient, distant kingdoms. He shrugs off the rest of the shirt, revealing the medical wrappings elegantly winding down his arms to his fingertips. Several of his stitches along his joints had broken from his movements, blotching the linen with crimson.

"Care to take up your duties as my manservant tonight?"

As if on cue, Oswald goes to the cupboard and gathers fresh materials. Levi sits on the bed, watches Oswald, almost in a daze, take his place by his side, and starts undoing the lengths of linen. The two had done this hundreds of times over the years, just as Levi had done with his own predecessor. A strange ritual, but consoling.

Levi knows Oswald thinks things through the best when he has something to do with his hands and can let his mind wander for awhile. Expertly, Oswald unravels all of the cloths, cleans the skin where it breaks, applies the healing salve. His long fingers massage the salve deep into the muscles of Levi's back. The older man gives a grunt in relief as Oswald tackles a particularly knotted patch of muscle and scar tissue.

When his torso is cared for, Oswald finally speaks. "I cannot get her out of my head, Master."

"Who?"

"Alice."

"You used its correct name this time."

"Why would the Core create Alice in her image...and send her here...?" The question dangles in the air.

Levi relaxes into his ministrations. "What do you think?"

"I think the Abyss is punishing me."

"Don't be so egotistical, Oswald." Levi shifts around, his forearms bare. The rot had covered the length of them more extensively: scaly pale skin, speckled over by half-healed scabs. At the elbows and wrists, the skin is rubbed raw. Fresh blood oozes out of these places, along with translucent pus.

"You think Lacie's the only Child of Misfortune who had ever existed and you, the only Glen who had dealt this act?"

Oswald wipes down Levi's limbs wordlessly, his brow furrowed. He applies the salve more gingerly here, dabbing on the open wounds using dainty little bobs of his hands. Oswald cuts more lengths of linen, artfully covers Levi's decaying limbs.

A pause. "No. But..." Another pause. "I asked Lacie the night before... if she told Jack the truth and he wanted the both of them to run away..." He face twisted in emotion. "I should have let her go. There could've been something I could've done..."

If overruling thousands of years of tradition and authority had been as easy as that, Levi would've done it long ago. "You can't change the past. Believe me, there were times I had the same wish."

A spot of wet hits the bandages covering Levi's wrists. Oswald bows his head and trembles. "Without Lacie, and soon you... I will be so lonely. There won't be anyone..."

"Don't worry." Levi touches their foreheads together. "To be Glen is never to be alone."

* * *

After assisting Master Levi to bed, Oswald finds himself in the back gardens again, wandering. He holds the lantern along his side, keeping the heat of the flame away from his cloak. In his mind, he sees himself and Lacie, racing between the topiaries. Hide-and-seek. Tag. Ring around the rosie. All those simple childhood games.

Oswald had sworn, ever since he was a little boy, that he'd protect his sister. From indifferent foster caretakers and cold servants (faces foreign and so long ago Oswald can't recall anything about his first home except awful sadness and neglect). From the slavers who captured them and sent them across the sea. From scraped knees and bad falls, from playing too close to the fireplace or from ugly insects. But the only threat he couldn't prevent was the one that lurked over them all: their destinies.

No, he could've changed everything. Maybe.

Master Levi dismissed his feelings. He is a sort of man who keeps all deep emotions mounted on walls, under glass, like his specimens. Oswald had come to accept that about his master. Unlike him, Oswald's emotions cloud in a constant fog; he may not be able to describe this fog, but at least he knows it is there and he is breathing it all in.

He sits on a stone bench under a flowering dogwood tree. He wants to sleep, more than anything, yet the thoughts never cease. Oswald drifts into the fog, letting the droplets of grief cling to his body.

"Hello Oswald."

He stirs. Who's there? The gardens are empty.

In the shadows, he feels something. A figure emerging from the corners of his... mind...?

"Please do not be frightened. We speak from your soul."

Oswald speaks internally. "Who are you?"

"We are Glen. All of the Glens of the past, residing in your spirit." The figure leans against a longstaff in her hands. Her features are vague, but oddly familiar.

"Why hasn't Master Levi ever mentioned...?"

"He was doing his duty. Silence about us was his own choice. I, too, did the same, Oswald."

Oswald mentally backs away. He's losing his mind from grief, surely. Having specters from the past suddenly make an appearance is not normal. Still, he quells the sense of panic (he must retain at least some measure of sanity, if part of him has the sense to panic) and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"We remain as watchers and don't typically interact with the current Glen. Yet we can be summoned in times of dire need to advise you. In this case, the Council of Glen wants to ensure you are given the right guidance during this precarious moment." The stranger becomes more fully realized. A tall woman in men's clothing, bearing twisted golden locks and an imposing wooden staff. Again, a sense of recognition races through Oswald, yet he can't quite place her.

"Master Levi guides me."

"For now."

Of course. He's dying. A painful stab to this chest. But, looking at the shade, Oswald feels strangely reassured there's an afterlife for Glen. Master Levi had hinted he'd never be alone. He gives a grim smile.

"Soon he will join your ranks as well."

"You must be wary. As long as Levi exists, he remains dangerous. Especially now, while he holds unwarranted power over you."

"I don't understand. Master Levi would never-"

"You have no idea who Levi truly is." The woman's eyelids lower. "Over the years watching from the inside, I realized how much I've failed him."

"And you are?"

"A representative of the Council." She meets his face again, her expression unreadable once more, and extends a hand. Something clicks, and Oswald remembers her portrait in the memorial alcove. "You may call me Kahina."


	22. The Fifth Fairy Tale: The Tree of Life

For Alice below and Alice above, in memory of their mother.

* * *

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away, there grew the Tree of Life. The tips of the Tree touched the highest vaults of space and the lowest roots sunk deep into the center of the World. Many have tried climbing to the very top of the Tree of Life, for it is said that those who do shall attain eternal youth and knowledge. Others have tried digging to the very roots of the Tree of Life, for it is said that those who do shall wield dominion over all men and beasts.

No mortal knew the true secret of this Tree of Life: that inside its trunk, which is thicker than the hides of a thousand beasts, slept a woman, the First Woman. She slept standing up, so that the tips of her fingers were the branches touching the skies and her toes matched the deep roots in the ground. They said if this woman should ever wake, she would try to break out of the Tree of Life, and if the Tree should topple, the World would end.

In order to keep the First Woman asleep, all of the Angels of the Moon gathered stardust with their wings and draped it over the branches of the Tree every night. The stardust sunk into her skin and gave the First Woman the most vivid dreams. She dreamed of people of all nations, of the smallest insect and the mightiest fish in the ocean. She dreamed of simple farmers in their fields and of royalty in their splendor. The First Woman dreamed of cabbages and shoehorns, of elephants and coal dust, of mighty fortresses and lonely caverns in the ocean deeps.

One night, while the Angels gathered their stardust, one of them knocked over a tiny baby star with their wings. The tiny thing trembled and fell into the feathered embrace of the Angel, and heedlessly, was dropped onto the Tree of Life. The tiny star, living and breathing as tiny stars tend to do, found its way inside the trunk and nestled inside the First Woman.

The star became a human child, and emerged, whole, from the trunk of the Tree of Life, right at the base of the Tree's roots on the forest floor.

She was a energetic, spritely thing, and she glowed with the light of a hundred jewels. They called her the Tree Fairy, for no one knew the true origins of her birth, and people assumed she came straight out of the dreams of the First Woman.

The Tree Fairy was a mischievous scamp, climbing up all of the branches of the Tree of Life and calling down to the Angels to send her some stardust to decorate her hair. Or the Tree Fairy would dive deep into the hollows of the roots and call down to the underground Gnomes to dig her up some pretty gems to compliment her glowing skin.

She always slept beside the Tree of Life, and though the First Woman could not hear, nor speak, nor see, she took comfort in this human child. The Tree Fairy did not know her mother at all. Yet she sensed something very precious lived inside the Tree, and she vowed to always be the Tree's friend.

Her vow was tested, however, with the arrival of a great black rabbit. The rabbit had great black ears and big red eyes and a big red bow around its neck. "Hello Tree Fairy," said the black rabbit. "And I am looking for a playmate."

"I can play!" she said. Together, they played from dawn into evening in the forest. Both of them had so much fun, the Tree Fairy did not think of the Tree of Life even once until very late and returned to sleep between its roots as always.

That night, when the Angels dropped their stardust upon the Tree, it shuddered and they did not know why.

The next day, the Tree Fairy was climbing the branches above when she saw the great black rabbit below. "Hullo Tree Fairy," said the black rabbit. "I had so much fun. Please let us play again!"

"Me too," agreed the Tree Fairy. "Let's go!" Together, they played from dawn into evening and again, the Tree Fairy forgot to think of the Tree of Life at all. The Tree Fairy stayed at the black rabbit's burrow that night, nestled between its warm, fuzzy paws.

When the Angels dropped their stardust upon the Tree, its roots rumbled and they did not know why.

The third day, the Tree of Life waited for the human child it birthed to return. But she never did and stayed away for many days and nights, spending all of her time with the black rabbit.

Soon, the Tree began to do things it had never done before. The leaves withered and began to drop. The roots turned craggy and giant thorns grew up and down its length. The bark of the trunk became brittle and started to crack.

The Angels of the Moon had no idea what was the cause of all of these disturbances and fretted about the sky in much worry. The leader of the Angels looked down upon the World, trying to figure out what was upsetting the Tree so, and realized that the Tree Fairy had gone missing.

"We must find her," said the leader. "Or else the First Woman might awaken and uproot the World."

The Angels flew on their red wings throughout the realm and finally stopped by the black rabbit's burrow.

"Tree Fairy!" they exclaimed. "Why haven't you returned to the Tree of Life?"

The Tree Fairy woke with a start and came outside with the giant black rabbit. "This is my new friend," she told the Angels. "I'm sorry I forgot about the Tree of Life!"

The black rabbit was also regretful of its selfishness. "I did not mean to hurt the Tree's feelings," he said. "What can we do to make up for this?"

"The Tree of Life wishes the Tree Fairy to stay by her side forever," said the leader of the Angels. "I'm sorry, but she cannot have you as a friend, black rabbit."

This news upset them both very much. "Can we make a new friend for the Tree of Life?" asked the Tree Fairy.

"We do not know how," replied the Angels. "For you are the first friend the Tree of Life has ever had, and we do not know how you came to be born."

The Tree Fairy, then, devised a plan to speak with the Tree of Life. They all returned to where it grew and she climbed into its highest branches. "Pour the stardust in my eyes," she said to the Angels, "and let me dream the dream it has."

So the leader of the Angels flapped their wings and stardust covered her eyes. The Tree Fairy fell into a deep slumber and tumbled straight into the First Woman's dreams.

The Tree Fairy was struck into amazement by the things she saw and the experiences she beheld. And, deep within the land of dreams, she saw the dreamer inside the Tree of Life for the very first time.

"I am the First Woman," said she, seeing the human child. "In this world, I can speak to you, unlike in the waking one."

"First Woman, please forgive me and black rabbit," said Tree Fairy. "We didn't realize we hurt your feelings."

"You cannot leave me again," said the First Woman. "When you are not here, none of these dreams can satisfy me, for this reality is mere dust shed from the wings of Angels."

The Tree Fairy was sad, for she loved black rabbit and wanted to stay with him forevermore. "How was I born?" she asked. "Is there a way to create a new friend for you?"

"Perhaps," said the First Woman. "But I don't remember how you came about."

Now in the waking world, the leader of the Angels had a wicked plot. While Tree Fairy slept, their leader took their sword of moonlight and plunged it into the child's chest. The black rabbit had no idea this was to happen. In fright and grief, he ran off into the forest.

"Ah ha!" said the leader. "Now her spirit is bound to the dream world and shall remain for all eternity. No more shall the First Woman become upset and the Tree will not topple."

But the Angel did not realize one fact: the Tree Fairy was a mortal soul, and mortal souls can never last. In the dream world, Tree Fairy felt a sharp pain in her heart. "I have been tricked," she gasped and her soul disappeared. The First Woman, witnessing the death of her only friend, grew rageful.

The Tree of Life began to splinter as the First Woman stirred awake. "How dare you kill my only friend!" said the First Woman, speaking into the physical world. Her voice caused the forest all around her to flatten. The seas drained and the mountains shattered. Men and beasts throughout the World trembled and cried. The sky itself began to crack into pieces.

The black rabbit, witnessing all of this destruction, did the only thing he knew how to do. He bounded right into the splintering trunk of the Tree of Life into the arms of the First Woman. He pressed his heart against hers and he said, "You were Tree Fairy's first friend, and I was her second. Though she is gone, let us be friends in her memory."

The First Woman held the black rabbit close. Great tears poured down her cheeks. They were so wet and salty, they formed a new ocean with the Tree at the center. "Yes," she said, "let us be friends."

The bark grew about them both, healing the trunk. Leaves sprouted from the branches of the Tree. The thorns on the roots fell off, and the roots straightened back into the earth. The body of the Tree Fairy floated on the new ocean surrounding the Tree of Life, arms spread as if cradling the universe in her arms. She landed against the roots. The Tree grew around her body and folded the Tree Fairy into itself.

Then, as the Angels of the Moon watched in amazement, something truly miraculous happened. From Tree Fairy's body sprung new life, made from bits of the Tree and the human child and tiny bits of living stars. Two little girls emerged from the heart of the Tree, one black-haired and one white-haired.

The twins opened their eyes and gazed upon the World. They stood at the roots of the Tree of Life, watching the waves of the new ocean lap upon their feet.

"Hello there," greeted the leader of the Angels. "Please, tell us who you are."

The twins looked at each other and smiled. "We are the Tree Fairy's children, born from stars and dreams," they said, "and we will make this Tree and this World our home from now on."

So they did. Since then, the angels stopped sprinkling star dust upon the Tree of Life every night, for when the twins dreamed, they dreamt of First Woman and the black rabbit. Together, they all played in an endless wood.


	23. Experimental Factor Redux

"Master Levi, what are you doing here?" Oswald finds Levi leaving the Tower, humming a merry tune. He has his notes tucked away in a bound pile and carries a couple of old diary accounts from past Glens about unusual encounters in the Abyss.

"Oh? Alice, Oz, and I just had a lovely teatime. Have you met Alice's dear friend Oz? He's a great conversationalist." For the last hour, Levi and Alice flipped through the well-worn documents. Levi had pointed out illustrations of various Chains once spotted and she had readily been able to identity several. Levi is pleased that both of them work so well together; he's even been giving Alice lessons in reading and penmanship to improve her limited education.

A cloud hangs over Oswald's shoulders. Levi has taken this as a given for the past month, but now he notices the thunder rumbling over the young man's brow.

"Master Levi." Oswald 's mouth twists around the word as if it were a foreign intrusion. "Please don't visit Alice again."

"What do you mean? Do you think I'm scaring it with my appearance?" Levi pushes a lock of hair behind one ear. He doesn't keep his hair up any longer, letting the long white curtain flow down his shoulders as he had as a boy. Last time Levi had his hair arranged, a chunk of bloody scalp had been pulled out. He's lost his right eye completely too. Now he loops more bandages around his head to keep the the flesh of his face from rotting off. "Alice finds my new look rather amusing, actually, except when it tried to pull these rags off my face."

"I just don't want you to."

"Why's that?"

"It makes me uncomfortable." Oswald purses his lips. Levi wonders if there is anything more lurking in that mind. Oswald had always been forthright with him; imagining the man otherwise is impossible.

"Your Grace, you look as if a cat's stolen your tongue." He leans forward to punctuate the remark with a tap upon Oswald's nose, but the man recoils instantly.

"I don't like the thought of you alone with Alice."

"Want to join our playdates?" He grins and Oswald clenches his fists by his side.

"You always say the most inappropriate things! Alice shouldn't be exposed to that."

Levi shifts the stack of papers from one arm to the other. "Believe me, I behave myself perfectly." How else can he observe whether the experiment worked? "Whatever are you getting at?"

"Your interest in her is... suspect." Oswald's gaze slides away and he buttons in a scowl.

Levi arches an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Without warning, the storm breaks. Oswald shoves Levi against the stone wall. The force sends several loose sheets fluttering into the air. "Don't you  _dare_ put Alice in danger with your perversities," he growls. "She's a  _child_."

Levi lowers his eyelids. In a voice like rolling gravel, he whispers,  _"You idiot. Who do you think I am?"_

Oswald lets go; rarely does Levi show that level of anger. Instantly, the flash of red passes and the white-haired man bares his teeth in an expression far from cheerful. "Now if you excuse me," he says breezily, moving past Oswald and snatching the fallen papers, "I have some business matters to attend to."

* * *

"What did you tell him-?!"

Internally, he stomps around the emptiness inside his head. Levi feels more truly himself than he had been in nearly twenty years, yet for once, he wishes that damned Council still resided in his soul. Sure, he is set to join them in a short while (already he feels where his flesh comes loose from his bones), but the that fact he couldn't demands his answers now infuriates him.

Levi's steps echo as he bursts into the memorial alcove. "Council! What kind of filth did you plant in Oswald's mind?"

He knows what the Council would say, even as he fumes. "Only the truth of our observations," they'd reply. "We only act upon Glen's best interests."

Well, their interests shouldn't be to paint Levi as some sort of perverted  _fiend_. His stomach lurches at the thought. The Council must've told Oswald about him and Lacie by now, surely. It is the best ammunition they had. But they smear his noble intentions, color it as lechery.

Levi never, ever,  _ever_  thought of doing anything to Lacie while she was a child. She matured; he taught her the ways of the world; she made her own decisions.  _Always._

Did the Council imply to Oswald that Levi had coerced her all along? And Levi fosters ill intentions toward Alice-?

"Does 'it' upset you?" he demands. "Fine, be upset! I think 'it's' rather cute. Looks like her." He takes out the candles, opens the glass covering over one of the mounted gas lanterns. "But what kind of sick advice are you giving Oswald...? Are you trying to poison him with suspicion and lies?"

He whips off the black bunting from the latest portrait on the wall of Glens, one he had kept covered for years. He points a finger at her solemn face. "You know me. How dare you support this slander! How dare you even make him think-!" He puts his head in his hands. Kahina knew his mother, she knew his wretched birth, and yet she allowed Oswald to contemplate that he's a damned monster like his father...

A low chuckle. "This means you're desperate, aren't you, Council? Are you afraid of Alice and her sister? Are you afraid of the loyalty pledge I hold over Oswald?" He swallows hard, leans against the portrait frame. "We cannot say how much power the Core has," he says softly. "But you know it's limited and can now be controlled. Stabilized."

Giving the Core a vessel is only part of Levi's final endgame, a plan he never spoke aloud, or thought, or even contemplated longer than a few moments of every single day ever since he had become Glen.

The point of giving the Core a physical vessel isn't in order to manage it more easily. The physical vessel is to stopper what power it has, allowing Levi's private plot to unfold: one of true, lasting change. But in order for true change to happen, it cannot be forced, but decided upon freely, no strings attached. Or else everything Levi has worked toward would fall into shambles, become nothing but a repetition of the same corruption he is determined to evict from this world.

He plays with the bunting on the portrait frame for a moment as he props several lit candles before it.

 _This is a hallway of fools_ , he thinks,  _protecting a worthless place where people die at the whims of an uncaring and unknowable entity. This horrible ritual will be wiped off the face of time itself._

He lets the bunting drape close to the flames, letting the tasseled ends smolder. He wonders how long it will take for passersby or a guard to realize the memorial alcove had been set ablaze. What an unfortunate accident.

He gives one last formal bow before he departs. "May your memory be kept long among us."

* * *

The ride to the Vessalius manor takes the rest of the morning and by early afternoon Levi arrives. Jack is resting when Levi slips into his bedchamber. He pulls up a padded chair and straddles it backwards, watching the man in the half-light.

The past month had not treated Jack kindly either. The young man is sickly, even in this warm light, and his eyes are dull as they stare up at the ceiling.

"You've truly become a living corpse, Jack."

The man stirs and sits up from the pillows. A flicker of surprise enters his eyes, but the rest of his expression remains listless.

"Yo." Levi lifts a decrepit hand. "It's been about a month, hasn't it? Sorry for waltzing in without permission but it's because I wanted to talk to you."

"A month, so it's only been one month..."

"You left right after speaking to Oswald that day. To be honest, I was a bit let down. I thought you'd at least shout for Lacie and go berserk."

A minuscule toss of his shoulders. "Oswald can't lie, right?" Jack looks down. "I know, he's not that shrewd. Besides, I was strangely convinced by his words."

"Convinced?"

"About why she lied to me. I could tell, since I was always watching her." He adds in that strange calm tone, "And I'm good at seeing through someone's lies since I found that skill necessary for my survival."

So the man is more perceptive than he let on. He didn't say anything even when he knew she was lying...Even at the very end, Jack let Lacie go without question.

Levi crosses his arms over the back of the chair and slouches. "I really find you amusing."

_He accepts lies if they are Lacie's words. He's frighteningly pure... and equally warped. Jack, my unwitting ally. So useful._

"Come with me Jack. Now that you've lost Lacie, the world must be useless to you. But you should know the reason she was dropped into the Abyss." He rises and shuffles forward a step. The familiar pain when he moves his limbs hinders him a bit and he pauses, resting a hand on his knee, head bent.

Jack immediately slips from the covers to assist him. "Gl-"

Levi straightens up and grins in reassurance at Jack's alarmed look. "Oswald has already inherited that name. Let's see, if you're going to call me by name, call me 'Levi', my original name."

He sweeps a hand across his bandaged face. "As you can see, my body is beyond saving." He gives a grunt as they make their way out the door to Jack's parlor room. "Actually, it's even difficult for me to move. I won't be able to verify the results of the experiment myself..."

After Jack gets changed and readied, they board the carriage. The afternoon passes slowly as Levi lays out all of the facts he wants Jack to know. "Oswald has been a wreck since the day of the ritual, though you can't tell by simply looking at him." Levi arranged the shawl tighter over his shoulders. The carriage feels drafty to him, despite the warm spring weather. "It's not only because he dropped Lacie into the Abyss. He feels responsible for her being born as a Child of Misfortune."

He goes on to explain how the leader of the Baskervilles tend to create distortions around them, and how the greatest of those distortions is the creation of Children of Misfortune, whose sin is evident in their red eyes. Oswald had always blamed himself for creating Lacie's fate. Such a foolish notion, but one that Levi is convinced the young man cannot reject.

Still, he gives Jack an abbreviated set of facts. "I don't know whether or not this is true... but there were other instances where Children of Misfortune existed among the relatives of successive Glens."

Jack is an attentive listener, as he always had been with Levi. "Those children were all... dropped into the Abyss by their relatives when they became Glen?"

"Yes. Because you're supposed to properly dispose of what you've created." Levi wonders if Jack is going to ask Levi who he had dropped when he became Glen, but the blond man stays silent, mulling over this tragic truth. He moves on. "The Abyss is the 'beginning' of everything but it is also the 'end' of everything as well. This world is protected by 'Chains' so the Abyss won't drag the word into itself with its power. It's like tying a cracked crystal together."

"I've never heard such a thing."

"Of course not. It sounds very abstract, even to me," Levi hedged. "However, powers that attempt to contain this world as it is indeed do exist."

The Baskervilles. The Council. The system that drives one to oppress the other, all stemming from the ridiculous notion of right and wrong, of a world order...

"The Baskervilles monitor the power of the Abyss, including those 'Chains...'"

"Then what if those 'Chains' were to break?"

He analyzes Jack's open expression, but knows the man is good at hiding his true feelings. Just like Levi. He gives a careless shrug. "Knowing the answer to that is meaningless." A few more moments pass. What is Jack thinking right now? Does he believe Levi? Or does this only sounds like some ridiculous fairy tale?

"It would impact our world forever..." he adds, "...to think it could become one with the Abyss..."

The carriage pulls to a stop at the estate. Not before the castle, but along the side road closest to the Tower. "Here we are." Levi opens the door and hops out in a way that ignores the screaming of his knees. "One more thing I need to show you before my time's up. Hurry now."

The two men move through the trees. Forest shadows cast everything in cool hues. Levi gingerly steps through the brush. "Oswald wishes to be punished. That's why he tries to take care of 'It' alone, even though he knows he'll suffer."

They arrive at the base of the tower. The interior lamps have already been lit, so they can easily see the girl standing through the window. Jack is stunned. "Wha-?"

Levi chuckles. "Doesn't she really look like Lacie? I was surprised too, when I first saw her."

Through the window, Alice is chatting with some unseen person. Oswald, since it is around suppertime, and he would've brought her meal. Alice soon disappears from view.

"She's Lacie's child."

Jack whirls around, eyes wide.

"I impregnated her and had her give birth in the Abyss."

Shock coats the young man's features. Why would he react so, Levi thinks in amusement, if Jack pegged them both as a good couple months ago?

"What for..?"

"As an experiment."

Any other man in Jack's position would've tackled Levi to the ground, thrown a good punch or six. Oswald would've cut Levi down on the spot. Still, Jack had always been an impartial type when it came to Lacie, and Levi knows that Jack is assured whatever decision she made, it was her own. Unlike Oswald, whose head is clouded by that toxic Council...

Levi explains everything: about the plot he and Lacie committed to, about their aim to create a physical vessel for the Core and what neither of them anticipated: the birth of twins.

"Why was only one of the twins returned to this world? Did the Core obtain its bodily vessel? That is what we must verify from here on out." He gives a gentle look, remembering black Alice's drawing of white Alice. He'll let Jack make those discoveries himself about the secrets of Lacie's offspring. "I call this vessel for the Core the Will of the Abyss, though you may think of it more as a capsule for your intentions."

Levi reaching his limit. His joints, his scalp, his face, everything begins to blur in an accumulation of agony. He always had the option of taking medicines to mitigate the pain, but those elixirs would only fog his mind, and his rationale is the one thing Levi wants to keep until the bitter end. Still, his protesting body demands he rest.

"I must take my leave for today. I don't think we'll see each other again after."

Jack faces him. "Levi, what did you intend with all this?"

Fine. The man deserves some hint of his greater plan. The least Levi can do for his clueless co-conspirator. "What I wanted was change. I wanted to see how the immutable Baskervilles would change by giving a limited bodily vessel to the Core. However, ones damned as I will be ordered to depart soon enough, so I'll entrust the rest to you."

Late afternoon is falling. Levi gives Jack one last look as the forest shadows creep alongside his face.

Lacie is dead. The Core's abilities have been limited. Whatever Jack chooses to do with Alice is up to him now. Levi has planted all the seeds, and only has to wait to see what happens.

"Do what you want for the sake of your hopes."

Though Jack is not aware of this at all, Levi's made all the arrangements for him to inherit Lacie's choice: the option of destroying this world. It'd be fascinating to see what he decides to do with this terrible gift.

"And I shall observe the path you take from inside the other Glens..."

* * *

The golden lights of the Abyss dance outside his window. Levi hadn't taken the time to simply gaze at them for awhile now, but as he lies down, he takes comfort in viewing them. He imagines these lights expanding and covering the entirety of world as the cracked crystal crumbles into nothingness...

"Master Levi."

Levi looks toward the foot of the bed. He's taken back that Oswald still chooses to be in his presence after their last chat.

"Here to comfort a dying man, Oswald?"

Oswald's face is made of stone as he comes to Levi's side. Levi nods toward a nearby seat, but the Duke remains standing. "Look, whatever disgusting insinuations had been presented to you, I assure you I have not harmed a hair on Alice's head."

Oswald presses both hands upon the bedcovers as he leans over and glares right into Levi's face. "It isn't true, is it? That you and Lacie-?"

"Alice is her own person, is she not?"

"Erm, yes." Oswald must be thrown by Levi staying on topic about the girl, or by his use of the female pronoun.

"Would you treat the child any different whether you knew who her father was or not as long as she was Lacie's daughter?"

"I... well..."

"She is the only connection to Lacie you have left," Levi notes. "Surely, you wouldn't disregard that fact."

"Master Levi," Oswald looks the man in his one remaining eye. "Stop the sophistry and speak plainly. Are you Alice's father?"

Oswald is only demanding a confession because he has reservations about the Council. Relying on his instincts, as always. "I've always been truthful to you." Levi laughs. "The child is as much my daughter as you are my son, Oswald. Are you the type of person to blame someone for the circumstances of their birth?"

Oswald turns away, his gaze unreadable. Levi wonders what toxicity is running through his head that very moment and he grits his teeth. "Whatever you do with Alice is your choice," he says, "You have much more time to decide her fate. Though perhaps if the Council is kind, I might put in a word later on."

The loyalty pledge remains between them, and they both know it. Levi can order Oswald to do anything Levi desires. He can demand Oswald to obey only him, even after his body's death. He can tell Oswald to protect Alice's life. He can instruct Oswald to prevent the sacrifice of any other future Child of Misfortune.

"I am not the type of man the Council says I am." The moment weighs heavily upon them, and the invisible eyes of Glen watch. Levi plays his final card. "As long as I remain alive, you are free to act as you wish."

Relief plays across Oswald's features, but then hardens once more. His old mentor hadn't betrayed him, but Oswald remains angry about what Levi refuses to admit.  _That's fine,_  Levi thinks in a sad, disengaged way.  _I deserve all of your loathing. It was going to happen sooner or later._

Levi sees his plan unfold before him in a series of elegant moves across a chessboard. Going forward, Oswald won't trust the Council for advice, even in the unlikely event of Levi being accepted as part of it. He'll isolate himself from the Baskervilles as well, since they had served as extensions of a cruel system. He will accept Jack into his life instead. And Jack knows everything Levi needs him to know.

What will that lovesworn fool, then, choose? Levi doesn't know, but at least the pieces had been set up for anything to happen, even the impossible.

"Fine," Oswald says after a while. "Then let me make a promise in return. Once your body dies, I promise to prevent your spirit from ever making a decision concerning me, or any other Glen, or Alice, ever again."

He leaves.

* * *

By the pond, her favorite spot, Oswald sits in turmoil. His despair is absolute. Even the songbirds avoid him. Late afternoon light covers everything in a wash of reds and golds.

Oswald feels alone, utterly and miserably alone, because he has no faith in anything but in himself and at this moment, his conviction is weak. The fears of responsibility, of duty, of purpose are crashing down on him, making it hard even to breathe. Should he decide to commit to his role as Glen? That had led him to destroy the person he cared for most. Should he trust in all he had been taught? But everything he had learned was at the hands of Master Levi, and all along, the man had his own machinations.

What infuriated Oswald the most is how he can't understand why Master Levi would engage in such duplicity. Why Lacie would keep his secrets. For someone who always trusted his gut feelings about people, suddenly not knowing the man who had raised him or the sister he grew up with threw everything off.

Underneath all the rage and levels of betrayal, the pit of it all resides in a boyhood memory of falling stars.

_"I love you and Lacie very much. I won't say it again, because it's cruel to know how deeply someone loves you when they will inevitably need to hurt you. But I do, I truly do. Can you remember that?"_

Oswald has no one in the world.

The rustle of the long grass. He sees Jack approach.

"So, you were alive." Oswald focuses on the lights playing off the surface of the pond.

"What the hell? Did you think I offed myself?" Bright laughter counters Oswald's sullen silence. "I won't die, because I haven't lost hope." The sun is finally beginning to set.

Oswald glances up to see his friend's sharp profile against the colors of the sky. "Oswald, if you lose hope, despair won't exist anywhere either." The sun now hits the top of the treeline, filtering through the leaves.

"So I'd like to win it back."

 _Oswald,_  says a Glen.  _This man speaks rubbish. A foolhardy human..._

"I want to see her again!" Jack confronts his friend, offers a gentle expression of kinship and yearning.

_He cannot understand the responsibilities you and you alone must bear. Send this one away._

Jack bends toward him and presents a gloved hand. "You must feel the same way too, Oswald." In this sea of loneliness, Oswald terribly wants to take that hand. He wants to know someone he wholeheartedly trusts remains by his side.

_Are you listening to us?_

"Silence, the lot of you!" Oswald screams at the Council.  _"Silence and let me think for myself!"_

Jack has such a kind and hopeful look. He always had been a tenderhearted man. Oswald takes hold. "So let's go get Lacie together."

Instantly, Oswald jerks away from Jack's grip. "What nonsense." His violet eyes - that same edged look which first terrified Jack - once again cut into his friend. "Lacie's existence will disappear into the darkness of the Abyss. It's impossible to get her back. Doing so is  _impermissible!_ "

Softly, applause from the Council echoes in Oswald's soul.


	24. Death

_"It was only obeying its instincts in attempting to rescue you..."_

Vague awareness. Floating. A stronger voice, speaking...

 _Oh look, there I am,_ Levi thinks through the haze. His shade hovers over the scene: two boys in boarding school outfits. Craggy cliffs and mounds of stone surround them. One of the boys had been fatally injured. Blood pools from the wound and his ashen head is tossed to the side, unconscious. Beside him, a black-haired boy wearing enormous glasses leans over, weeping.

That youth... so familiar...the boy with all the tears... why...

A name. Leo. Levi recalls meeting this boy once during tragedy - a mother's death.  _Who else had this young man lost...?_

In the distance, another familiar voice continues his explanation in a detached tone.  _"To its eyes, it likely appeared that the boy over there was going to cut down and kill you..."_

Slowly, Leo raises his head. "You guys again? What are you here for now? You haven't spoken to me in years!"

Why this person sounded like... Oswald... Oswald, you're here too...

 _"That is... because you rejected us..."_ says another Glen and Levi suddenly sees the outline of his hands, the cut of his clothes. The remnants of the Council, broken and fractured, a mere figment of what it once was, slowly gathers around Leo and his fallen friend.

Oswald is the one who stands closest to Leo. He is dressed in the usual outfit of grays and blacks, not the ceremonial outfit he had worn when he was killed over a hundred years ago.  _"You rejected the voices in your head and you also denied the world you saw with your own eyes,"_  he says.

Levi, his awareness slowly coming back to him through the mists, takes a look around. Many other Glens stand as if they were monuments. Were their minds still gone?  _"As long as your self-awareness is hindered, our consciousness and memories remain vague. If you deny us, we must vanish."_

Leo growls, "I am telling you to shut up!"

_"But just now, though not unconsciously, you asked us to help."_

Levi interrupts the conversation.  _"Do you want that boy to live?"_

Leo eyes him and Levi knows he recognizes him as that Glen who spoke to him years ago. "You can do such a thing?"

Levi puts a finger to one chin. Oswald narrows his eyes at him but doesn't stop Levi from responding.  _"We cannot heal that wound, but yes, it should be possible to close it."_

Oswald nods in agreement.  _"Make him drink its blood and have him call its name."_  Levi stares wonderingly at his former ward. He is trying to remember exactly what they were doing here, but those details remain obscured. Is Leo the next Glen? Is that why he has been resurrected from the fog that once was Glen's Soul?

"Its name?" Leo repeats.

 _"Yes,"_  Oswald answers.  _"Unfortunately, it is not known to us as we are now. You must put upon it yourself and decipher it."_

Leo looks to Oswald as the man reaches down to grab his wrist. Suddenly, the flow of life sharpens Oswald's outline and he appears not as glowing haze, but his flesh-and-blood self.  _"Make him drink..."_

No... Thoughts of possession and its consequences come to Levi's mind.  _"Oswald... don't..."_  He moves a ghost hand, but his form, like the other Glens, are much less substantiated than Oswald is. The black-haired man has Leo in his grasp.

Above, hovers the gruesome, amorphous head of Levi's Chain. Levi had never seen this creature with his own eyes before, and his lips part as he surveys the black hollow eyes, the wide, grinning teeth, the ectoplasmic slime dripping from its jaws.

A low grumble comes from the Chain.

Leo whispers, "Humpty Dumpty...? "

Leo raises a hand, lets the sticky dark blood drip into his palm and then covers his friend's mouth. "Drink, Elliot."

A groan from the dying boy.

"Please..." A sniffle. "You'll feel better. Just drink and say its name."

Two blue slits as the other boy opens his eyes. "Its name...?"

"That's right. Do it now."

Elliot mutters the Chain's name then loses consciousness once more. The contract is sealed.

Oswald removes his spectral hands from the boy.  _"Take heed, this is all your fault."_  His cape, fully defined, sweeps about his legs. On the ground, Leo grips his arms and hugs himself, shuddering.  _"This is all your doing,"_  Oswald says.  _"You restored that boy to life but you have by no means saved him. That is your karma. Do not ever forget!"_

Leo gives a loud wail and starts to sob, clutching Elliot's jacket. "Live, Elliot, please, please live..."

 _He will, I assure you that,_   _Master,_ says Humpty Dumpty before the Chain vanishes into the Abyss.

Inside Leo's soul, Levi comes to grip with what he had just witnessed. "What are you doing to the boy...?"

The flash of a sword. "You, of all people, have no right to judge me," the last Baskerville Duke snaps. His voice echoes inside the walls of the new construct of Glen's Soul. The realm is colored by blues, blacks, and grays. Levi wants to say more, but it is as if his entire mind is congested by a foul smog. Does Oswald feel the same way?

"Do you even know who he is?"

"Um... He's Leo..." Oswald looks disconcerted and lowers his sword hand. "I don't think I recall why we're here...Only, something terrible happened. Long ago."

"Yes." Levi edges closer to the other man. "Something is blocking our full awareness, Oswald."

How did they get there? Where was here again? What era are they existing in? "What happened?" Levi blinks, but can't even sense if he still had control over his eyes. "We... we are... in Glen..." he fumbles. "We've been reborn. Before then, there was only me and you and everyone had gone...They were trapped in memories..." He presses his hands together. "I existed alone for one hundred years, while you slept..."

Oswald has his back to him, a hand pressed to one temple. A force clouds their memories and minds, and trying to retrieve answers from their pasts is like pulling teeth. "I remember Sablier. It fell... and, I tried to stop it, and Jack. Betrayed. Me." That old anger breaks across his face. "And you. Betrayed. Me. Used. Lacie..."

Levi brushes the man's shoulder. "Oswald..."

"Shut up!" Oswald brandishes his sword. "You monster!"

The sword cuts cleanly through flesh and bone and spirit matter across Levi's chest. He falls to his knees, looks up at his protege. A weak smile as he registers the excruciating agony and he remembers that, of course, spirits can still feel pain in this realm...and he will heal and then Oswald can destroy him again. And again.

As Oswald's attack continues, Levi can only laugh as the blood bubbles up from his throat and dribbles past his lips. He had already died once. He can afford to die a few more times.

* * *

_Dearest Lady Celia,_

_Pardon the brevity of this letter, but time is of the essence._

_Much sorrow has befallen the Baskerville House. It pains me much to write that Lady Lacie is no more; she had passed into the Void but a few days ago. Lord Oswald - now Glen Baskerville - despairs and will not rouse himself for the simplest of duties as the new Duke. Master Levi did not go the way Lady Kahina had (always the rebel, my bold Master) and lives for now, but only just._

_I suspect you fear for the fate of our beloved mistress and masters, since all their correspondence outside the castle had ceased._

_I do not know whether this note will find you in time for Master Levi, but please, your presence is sorely needed at the estate, for Lord Oswald's sake at least. He needs to be assured he still has people on the side of the living who love him._

_Your ever-loyal companion & servant,_

_Fang Baskerville_

_Master of the New Recruits_

* * *

A little over a month after Lacie's passing, Levi felt himself at Death's door. A few days beforehand, Oswald ejected him from the castle entirely and shuttered his library. Levi took a handful of things and some personal items and had them moved to Celia's old cottage in the back gardens. He lay in Celia's four-poster bed, recently aired and covers changed.

Better this way, he thought, as a garbled cough bubbled up from his chest. He put a handkerchief to his mouth, and like a melodramatic lead in an opera, hacked loudly into the silk cloth until it was stained with red. Better to die in some isolated room, alone, away from everyone else. At least he'll have some privacy for the end of his days.

By the bedside, the only comfort he had was the dictated correspondence he kept over the last several years with his oldest friend. He read her assistant's script describing in Celia's voice all her adventures and discoveries in countries far away. Her visit to the Central Archipelago, riding that emu. Taking a locomotive between cities in the Western Isles. The time in the steppes, where she learned the throat singing his mother Leah adored so much.

He folded Celia's last letter from four months ago, when she was convinced she found a new key to the puzzle of the Abyss in some forgotten library in the north. She said she'd get him a copy, but he knew he'll never have a chance to read it.

"So you've made yourself comfortable while I was out."

Levi glanced up. "Don't you have the sense to knock first? We always did for you."

Her merry little laughter kindled a warmth in his chest. Lady Celia entered the bedroom. Her assistant stood by her side, but the older woman whispered something in her ear and the woman exited with a jingling of bells.

In the fireplace light, Levi saw how much his friend aged over the last nine years. Her kinky hair went completely gray and crow's feet marked the corners of her eyes. Despite his decaying body, Levi physically always remained the same age as he had been when he took on the Glen name. Celia had no such luxury, being human, and only then did he realize how much time had passed between them. She was well into middle-age, while he retained all the aspects of youth.

He sat up in the bed and grasped her hands. "Welcome home." Immediately, she sat on the mattress and took him in her arms. "What brings you back?"

"Mr. Fang wrote me." Celia cupped his face in both hands, touched his brow. Her fingers, soft yet calloused in places from years of spinning wool and working at her loom, brushed tenderly across his face, feeling the papery-dry skin of the sickly and his linen bandages. "Oh, Levi, you're a mess."

A low chuckle. "Tell me about it."

Her hands tangled in his hair and she made a low tsking noise. "You don't even bother with the braids anymore?"

"I look pretty terrible in them now, sadly." He sighed. "Ah, the good old days of my impeccable fashion sense have gone, Celia." He turned his head and coughed, then reached for another handkerchief. "Talk to me, darling, about everything."

Celia's assistant arrived with a tea service and Celia was especially indulgent to Levi, cutting up pieces of pastry to put in his mouth and letting him sip spoonfuls of tea that she cooled by blowing on it. Levi didn't mention how all food had become tasteless and swallowing ached, but obeyed her sisterly commands.

She chatted simply about the last set of adventures she had in the north, where the red-haired barbarians lived. "They have beautiful fabrics, however," she said, displaying her own coat made of deep blue and silvery phoenixes. She reached into a satchel by her side and removed a slim volume. "And I found that library I wrote about." She pressed the book into his hands. "Maybe this has everything we're looking for."

"Celia, I shall offer this torch for you to carry. At this point, you're as much an expert on the Abyss as I." He returns the book. "Though I have a similar gift to offer you." From the bedside drawer, he pulled out his own thin volume covered in finely tooled leather. "Early copy. The publisher was gracious enough to have this rushed to me, knowing my state."

Celia smiled as she touched the articulated features. "What does it say?"

Levi read the title. " _And Other Fantastic Fairy Tales._ "

"Really? Curious way to name a book."

"Have your handmaiden read it aloud. You're in it too, after a fashion." He brought her hand to his lips and smiled into her palm. Touching their faces to sense their feelings-something Levi never did with another except her. She cupped his chin, afterward, trembling.

"Levi, I have a confession."

"Oh?"

She rubbed his left cheek, the good one. "The night you tried to run away when we were children... That same night I finally saw the lights of the Abyss."

He shouldn't have been surprised, but nevertheless was. Of course, very few humans understood the life of a Baskerville and would tolerate staying at the estate. Celia had grown up by his side, and he assumed Celia would be the one constant not to change. His smug, know-it-all cousin.

Her voice grew quiet as she went on. "They led me to you. But you told me the truth of being Glen and killing Lady Leah. I was horrified. I didn't want to become part of that..."

"I see. You only wanted to live as you wished." He placed his own hand on top of the one against his face and smiled again to show how happy he felt. "I'm glad one of us did."

"No, please hear me out." Anguish framed her warm-toned features. "The lights made me feel protected, safe. I could venture out by myself since the lights would guide me. It felt... I never knew what the world was until that moment. I went to tell you, but you escaped with Lady Leah. I thought I lost you forever."

Levi shuffled further, until his upper body leaned against her own. "Celia... I didn't want to leave you but-"

"I know. You had to. When I found you and my Lady and that strange old crone and everything... I was scared, deep inside. That the true price of seeing, even in this limited way, was terrible. The next day, Levi, after Lady Kahina dragged you out of the Abyss..." She moved his hands against her cheeks in order to feel her tears. The gesture pained him as the drops of water dripped down his palms. "You told me you'd never run away again. We'd be together.'

"It was wretched hearing your voice. I didn't want that sadness to become part of me, if I became a Baskerville. So I pretended all these years to be just a simple, normal human being and stay as your best friend. Until Miss Lacie's Chain arrived. I sensed you were plotting something and didn't want me involved. You had always told me to go, and that's why I did." A ragged little sob escaped her. "Yet I never told you the truth. I'm sorry. I didn't want to be a Baskerville because I was too selfish."

Levi rubbed her cheeks tenderly as she shuddered and wept quietly. "I forgive you." She could only nod her head in response. Levi did, fully, because he had no reason to act uncharitable. Celia lived the life he couldn't and his body was now dying. Why begrudge someone else the choices he wanted for them?

"I'll be around, darling Celia. In different forms, but still here. My soul will reside inside Oswald, after."

"Not..."

"Glen cannot be reincarnated."

He smoothed the tendrils of hair about her face. Dark motes were appearing in his left eye now, and he knew it wasn't merely losing his sight. "Y'know, my body will be dropped into the Abyss. It'll change into a Chain. I don't know what it will become, but I bestow my Chain to you. If you wish."

Another bob of her head. "I do."

"Come here." He lowered down onto the sheets again, pulled her beside him as they nestled beside each other like they had as children. She wrapped an arm across his chest but didn't comment on the coolness of his body. The mortal end neared, and Levi didn't want his last living moments to feel so abject. "Tell me the colors of the lights you see, and I'll tell you mine."

A sniffle. "I see dedication. Loyalty. A midsummer's day. The taste of roasted squash and spices."

"I see the cool air before an autumn sunset. The tartness of crisp apples. The warmest spot by the fireplace after a long day hiking in the snowy woods."

"I see your voice. The vibrato of your violin. The touch of your hands on my face."

"I  _am_  touching your face, Celia."

"I know." She brought their lips together, but by then Levi had lost all sensation, and only felt the cold sinking into his skin.

* * *

Out of all the Baskervilles, she caught his eye because Jack had never seen a Baskerville guard of her age and bearing. He heard these men and women were nearly immortal and usually arrived at the castle in their youth. Jack was even surprised to see children as little as Gilbert and Vincent racing around wearing the guardsmen red.

"Well, hullo there," he greeted her. She sat at one of the outdoor tables with a large basket of flowers she was in the midst of arranging. "I've never seen you around before."

"Oh, I'm a new addition to His Grace's personal guard." She gave him a playful grin, and Jack received his second shock from this stranger: she was stone-cold blind. He then noticed a golden cane by her side.

"How is this possible? I thought all Baskervilles, erm, saw the lights early in life."

"One should never make a comment about a lady's age," she sniffed daintily. "Thought a gentleman of your breeding would know better."

"Forgive me then. Please let me be more proper." He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "My name is Jack Vessalius, a simple maker of music boxes."

"Oh, you're that fellow His Grace has taken to." She gave a bob in acknowledgement. "Lady Celia Baskerville."

"What called you to the castle?" Jack was honestly curious, eager to gain more information about these secretive Baskervilles.

"I knew the last Glen Baskerville."

"Oh, old man Levi?" Jack propped his elbows on the tabletop. "I haven't seen him in awhile, but he didn't look too good last time we met."

Lady Celia lowered the black rose she held. "He's gone."

"I'm so sorry to hear."

"We all are." She briskly picked up a pair of small scissors and started trimming the thorns. Jack let a few moments of silence pass out of respect, but then he asked, curiously. "So you can become a Baskerville guard at any point in life? Once you see the lights?"

"Once you contract a Chain, it becomes official."

"Oh? I'd love to see yours."

"Are you sure?" A sideways smirk crossed her face. "My Chain can be quite the devil."

"I don't scare easily."

A little laugh and Lady Celia snapped her fingers. "Come, come, Humpty Dumpty!"

A cloud formed above their heads and a giant floating blob manifested in the middle of the garden. Jack gave a start, clutching the edge of stone. Feeling the sudden jolt through the table, the woman cackled, witch-like. "I'll show you another trick." She snapped her fingers three times. At every snap, a new permutation of the creature formed. One in white. Second in black. Third in white again.

"Humpty Dumpty... is quite impressive."

"He should be, considering his roots." The first floating blob's tongue lolled out and licked Lady Celia Baskerville's shoulder. She took her cane, whacked the Chain across its indent for a nose with the handle, and gave a dry laugh. "He was my best friend. Yet during a time when he needed a friend the most, I stayed away. Now we'll never part again."

Later on by the old fish pond, Jack got a fuller explanation behind Lady Celia's cryptic words from Oswald: "Chains borne of the bodies of all of Glen Baskervilles are attracted to the soul that once belonged to them and try to protect it. Therefore, after you enter into a contract with those Chains, they often act as shields to protect the present family's head."

Jack sat forward from his spot against the tree trunk and draped his arms across his knees. He recalled the expression on the woman's face as she spoke about the former Levi Baskerville. "So your soul and body are attracted to each other...?" He couldn't help but crack a dreamy smile as he noted, "That's kinda romantic."


	25. The Sixth Fairy Tale: The Weaver and the Shepherd

For Celia

* * *

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away in a place beyond its very edge, a spinning wheel stood at the end of the Time. This wheel never ceased moving, never went too fast or too slow, and created the yarn of tales lived and died. A young girl minded the spinning wheel and watched the yarn through thick and thin. A stout woman carried a pair of shears and she cut the yarn at the right moment. An old crone took this yarn to her loom and wove the yarn into a story.

These three women were known as the Fates, for each thread they spun was a single living soul. The length and color and strength of the thread created the quality of the soul's life. The way that the thread was cut and woven on the loom determined the events and the other lives a single soul would cross in their lifetime. How the cloth was formed determined the rise and fall of whole nations, the passing of families through the generations, the destinies of kings and paupers alike. The Fates knew the beginnings and middles and endings of all living creatures, and even some of the gods.

Now all creatures lived in awe of the Fates, except for the Weaver Goddess. She was plain and small-boned, but her fingers were skilled and dexterous, and she wove the most amazing tapestries upon her loom that formed the sky and the sea and the clouds. She was dismissive of the Fates - not because she was more powerful than them, but because she did not see the purpose in creating beautiful weavings out of people's lives in ways no one else can see.

"People from across the world worship my beautiful weavings," she bragged. "But no one can see how the weaving of their lives will work, and it is quite an unhappy thought, don't you think?"

"How cynical and arrogant this Weaver is!" cried the Fates. "Even for someone as high and mighty as a goddess!"

So the Fates plotted between themselves a scheme to show the Weaver their power. When she slept, the youngest Fate crept into her room and tied a red string to her pinky finger. Now this string belonged to the Fates, so the Weaver Goddess could not sense it at all. On the other side of the sky, the eldest Fate took the other end of the red string and tied it to the pinky of another, called the Cowherd God. The Fate in the middle plucked the string, and the two star gods awoke. That moment, they gazed across the sky and fell in love.

Now the Weaver Goddess was also the granddaughter of the Heavenly Mother, who was infuriated by the Fates' scheme against her kin. The Heavenly Mother banished the Fates out of the celestial realm and ordered them to remain apart for the rest of eternity as watchers from above. Ever since then, the Fates became lurking eyes in a world outside ours, but peered at the stories they wove together.

But the Weaver Goddess and the Cowherd God still remained in love, which was forbidden. The Heavenly Mother sent the Cowherd God into the Hundred-Year Cycle to stay away from the Weaver Goddess in the heavens. The Weaver wept, and she spent all of her days weaving the sky and the clouds in endless colors in hopes to appease her grandmother. That is why the sky contains all of the colors of the world, if you gaze upon it at just the right moment.

In the World, the Cowherd God was reborn as a simple shepherd, who tended the flock of sheep in a sleepy village. He had but one friend, who was a Golden Ox who stayed by his side day and night. Unbeknownst to the reincarnated god, the Golden Ox was also a star divinity from the heavens, who came down out of pity for his dear friend. He wanted very much for the Weaver Goddess and the Cowherd God to be reunited once again.

One day, all of the star maidens asked the Heavenly Mother for permission to bathe in a sacred lake on Earth, where the water kissed the sky. "There the water is more pure and worthy of our beauty," the maidens pleaded, and the Heavenly Mother relented.

The Golden Ox heard of this planned trip, and so he told the shepherd, "O Shepherd, come to the lake outside your village. I had dreamt of a beautiful maiden from the sky, and she will be bathing in this lake. Take her golden cane while she bathes, and in exchange she will agree to be your wife."

The shepherd thought the Golden Ox's story was quite fantastic, but he did was he was told. At the lake, he spied a golden cane and took it for his own. Upon seeing the mortal human, all of the star maidens fled, except for one.

"You there, fiend!" the Weaver Goddess exclaimed. "How dare you insult a goddess by stealing her things?"

"I'm so sorry!" cried the shepherd, frightened, as he splashed his way through the reeds by the lake. "Forgive me, O Goddess!"

But when the Weaver heard the voice of that young man, she recognized him as the Cowherd God she had lost long ago. She lifted her hand where the red string of Fate still rested, and the young shepherd did the same. And then they knew their destinies had been intertwined all along. The two embraced at the lake, and the Weaver Goddess came down to the World to live with her dear love.

The two lived happily together for many years, until the Heavenly Mother found them out. Enraged, she sent her divine soldiers after the pair of lovers and pulled them apart. The Weaver Goddess was swept away in a golden carriage and lifted back up to the heavens, and the shepherd was thrown into the deepest parts of the World.

The shepherd despaired, lost and alone in a forgotten wood, until he stumbled upon a golden hide. He picked up this hide, and recognized it as the skin of his poor friend the Golden Ox, who had been punished by the gods for instigating the affair between the two stars.

"O Golden Ox, dear friend," the shepherd grieved. "What shall I do?"

"Don't cry, O Shepherd," said the hide, for the spirit of the Golden Ox still existed. "Use my hide to make a pair of wings, and fly up to the heavens to find the Weaver Goddess."

The shepherd did and launched himself from the highest mountain in order to reach the Palace of the Gods. He soared, higher and higher, until the divine soldiers spotted him from their celestial towers. The Heavenly Mother emerged from her throne room and struck a hand out into the skies. "This shall not be," she said, and with a sweep of her palm, created a giant chasm of stars between the Palace of the Gods and the shepherd. This chasm of stars we know as the White Path, and exists to this day to block the way between the Weaver Goddess and her love.

Ever since then, however, the shepherd remained in the sky and became the Cowherd God once more. As time passed, the gods and spirits took pity upon the cruel destinies placed upon them both by the Fates. Thus, during a time when the sky can be split equally between day and night, the sky unites the two stars, and only then can they celebrate their love.


	26. A Tragedy

Irony. The bitter irony of it all.

"BwahahahahahhahaHAHAHA!" Levi's volume gets louder and louder, echoing into all of the corners of Leo's consciousness. Leo himself sits flabbergasted by Jury's explanation. That her role as the "lurking eyes" is not to watch Glen, but to monitor some fantastic story of their universe. About how she had directed different versions of this story using the various Glens throughout time. As the master writer, Jury had controlled all of their destinies toward one final ending, because in the crone's words: "a tale that never ends holds no value," and "what is important is not when it ends, but how."

"I love this! What a masterpiece! I see...hehheheh... So this world is a book!"

Tears well in Levi's eyes. He bites his thumb and lets the pain hit enough for his body to stop this insane guffaw as he expounds upon the meaning behind Jury's words. "I once compared this world to a cracked crystal but I was wrong. According to those lurking eyes, this world is simply a  _book_  to shelve in their library!" His voice broke at the second emphasis on that word.

Levi the author, having something in common with the monstrosity he had loathed with every ounce of his being. He and Jury, two peas in a pod!

"What... What do you find so amusing about that?" Leo fires back.

He throws his arms wide. "This is ludicrous! How can I not laugh?"

Maybe this is the height of some ridiculous dream. Time for Levi to wake up in his bed, alive in the real world, muttering about this insane fantasy he had about his entire life...Or perhaps time for another stranger, a writer like himself, to pen her wild story about a pathetic fool who thought he could change the world...

Leo's expression remains confused, so Levi waggles a finger at the boy's slowness and explains it piece by piece. "Listen, as Glen, we're made to be 'aware' of our role as soon as we inherit the Glen name," he points at himself, Oswald, and Leo, "We're made to understand that the Baskervilles and Glen exist to protect the world order. But that old crone said, that we're-  _we're seeds that were sown to bring all manners of conclusions to this world!_ "

How much had his very personality been molded to be a such a seed? How much of Levi had been nothing but a puppet propelling this universe toward a fruitful outcome?

"They gave us Baskervilles a toy called the Abyss and told us to 'take good care of it'... But they were observing how we'd go about breaking it all along!"

His life-and-death-long goal, an expression of ultimate freedom, is perverted into the ultimate irony. Levi wouldn't have been able to construct a tale such as this. A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing...

"Why?! How could they...?"

Oh stupid Leo, always asking why! Doesn't he know the answer is, "Why not?"

"She said the 'lurking eyes' exist a step  _beyond_  our world."

As did the powers within the Abyss, as Levi had been taught. The Will has its mysterious ways, Kahina always told him. Except the Will is a much crueler, unknowable force than Kahina would've ever accepted. "That means it is useless to ask why. Whether their true objective is to collect these 'tales', or whether they intend to create a 'world that never ends' by collecting all sorts of 'tales...'"

He presents an arm as a ringmaster would before an audience. "Whatever the case, it's all senseless!" He crows, knowing that he is not only shouting to Leo and to the mindless Glens and to Oswald, but to you (yes YOU, pay attention!) Oh, Levi is sure his sanity is lost. Not that it matters.

"If this world is a story, it's a  _ridiculous_ one!"

And how completely anti-climactic.

Leo's shoulders hunch up. "It's not ridiculous to me. Not at all." His eyes flash. "It's not ridiculous." Levi recognizes the memory of a curious boy who loved stories more than anything in the world in Leo's extraordinary eyes. "Even if this world is really just some story that only exists to entertain 'somebody' in a place we cannot perceive... I don't think this world is ridiculous!"

It is, and it isn't. Levi looks around him toward the morass of Glens lingering in the corners of Glen's Soul. Each of them trapped in their own memories, their own private stories replayed over and over. He and Leo are as ridiculous as those lost souls. That is, not ridiculous at all, but pitiful.

Privately, despite the truth about his nature and his stalled story, Levi is relieved. A question which plagued him for over a hundred years has been put to rest.

What he did during the Tragedy mattered in the best way possible, despite the aftermath. If his original plan had succeeded, it wouldn't have been an act of free will, but exactly what the old crone wanted. He had lost, but in losing, succeeded in his rebellion.

So Leo doesn't think this world is ridiculous. Levi respects that. Under his breath, he says, "She didn't, either."

* * *

"Hello again, Master." The word sounded foul in Oswald's mouth, for Levi was nothing to him now, he was sure of that. Levi was surprised to find himself standing on his own and not instantly imprisoned by the Council. The rest of the Glens, however, also shared an unhappy expression upon their faces. Levi then realized how all of them stood before Oswald in Glen's Soul as if an invisible line was drawn between them. A shimmer hovered in the air and Levi saw he was right.

He couldn't recall how much time must've passed between his death and his resurrection inside Glen. Did the Council immediately shove Levi into the murky Flow of Oswald's soul and only now he was released?

"I can banish you all out of my awareness in an instant," the current Glen said coldly. "Today is an important day. The next heir will be announced and the Raven contracted to him."

The next vessel. How soon that was! Levi recalled Oswald being contracted at nine and himself at seven. Who was this newest heir, the twenty-ninth of his kind? Levi grappled to make sense of this scenario, but there are so many gaps in information.

He needed some answers, somehow. "Why I am here?"

"To resolve a loose end." A corner of Oswald's mouth twitched. "As soon as you died, I threw your body into the Abyss and confirmed with the Council that they'd lock your soul away. But now I'm being charitable. Today is your hearing, Levi Baskerville, and depending upon the results, I may allow the Glens to counsel once more."

No "Master" this time. Oswald had truly abandoned all of his former respect for him.

"Lady Kahina has told me everything you had ever done and now it is up to the Council to debate whether to eliminate you entirely for the rest of eternity. It's only fair you're present to hear your fate."

"Kahina." Levi confronted his predecessor, standing among the crowd. "Did you poison Oswald against me?"

"Oh, Levi, I never lied about you." Kahina's expression was cold steel. "You've been the poison all along, and we're working to leech it out of the world."

"After the ceremony, I'd be interested in hearing the results." Oswald waved his hand. The waters of the Flow rose up against Levi. He banged his fists against the emotional current, but the surface was hard as stone and expanded along the length of Oswald's consciousness.

Oswald retreated from the mental barrier he had created between himself and the rest of the Council and vanished into the distance.

* * *

In the real world, the royal family was greeted at the Baskerville castle. For the first time in several generations, the King will be present for the Baskerville heir's first succession ceremony. Everyone, from the cook to the footmen to the head butler to the guards, all prepped for this significant moment.

In a suite by the main ballroom where the ceremony for the Raven was set to take place, a young child named Gilbert fidgeted. Oswald entered the room and upon seeing him, Gilbert's face lit up. "Master!" he exclaimed and rushed over to give the Baskerville Duke a hug.

"Still nervous?"

A tiny nod. Oswald tousled the child's black locks. "I'll be there. I promise this will be fine."

* * *

In an empty hallway adjacent to the inner courtyard, another little boy wept in a column's shadow. His name was Vincent. Alice told him his brother was going to die that day and there was nothing, nothing Vincent could do about it. Until a mysterious hooded woman approached. She wasn't a Baskerville; her hood was midnight black, not the guardsman red.

"There is but one way to save your elder brother..." she murmured. "Shall I teach you how to open the door to the Abyss?"

* * *

In a Tower off in the forest, a black-haired girl named Alice dreamt and waited for him. Her hair wasn't normally black, but white, and in her daydreams she envisioned a dashing blond gentleman taking her far away from this lonely tower to his mansion. Jack promised to show her his gardens and to prepare a grand feast in her honor. Secretly, she hoped he'd take her hand in his and declare his everlasting adoration.

She loved him, this white-haired Alice.

* * *

In this castle filled with joy and excitement and laughter, a doorway stood, unguarded.

And there was a boy holding out his hand, saying a magic spell.

And there was a single instance of utter, dreadful silence as the universe held its breath.

And then came the beginning of the end.

* * *

It was a rare occasion that Fang had the opportunity both to wear fancy dress and his red uniform cape, but tonight's first ceremony for the Raven was one of them. Fang patrolled the hallways leading a group of the new recruits. Miss Lottie walked with him arm-in-arm. A schoolboy giddiness rose up as they strolled. His comrade-in-arms, dressed in silks and pearls and lovely roses, looked positively splendid. On his other side bounced Miss Lily in a pretty blue and black ensemble. Together, Fang could almost pretend they were going out for a magnificent evening as a family and not on duty.

His mood shattered, however, as the explosion rocked the entire hallway. The sheer force knocked everyone to the ground. Paintings fell off walls, vases and statues crashed to the floor. Miss Lily gave a frightened cry and buried her head in Miss Lottie's skirts.

Within minutes, another shock hit. Fang rallied his guards and started checking on the state of the guests around them for any injuries. Miss Lottie began directing the injured to the east wing, where the Baskervilles maintained a triage station.

The hallway was cleared when Doug raced toward them. "Fang!" The expression on his face was dire. "I just received orders to report immediately to Master Glen." Doug swallowed hard. "We have to dispose of all the civilians and the royalty."

"Dispose of-?" Fang and Miss Lottie exchanged glances. "What do you mean?"

"We have to kill them, Fang."

"But why-?" Miss Lottie exclaimed. "Why do we have to kill them? Can't we evacuate?"

"I don't know." Doug's heavy jaw was set in a grim line. "But we must do this as quickly as possible."

"Miss Lottie." Fang closed his eyes. He had led his soldiers into battle, done terrible things in his long military career before being stationed at the Baskerville castle. Miss Lottie may not agree with their duties, but he also had faith in Glen Baskerville's orders. "We must go. Now."

"B-but, we can't," she protested. "The royal family too? And all those innocent people-?"

"Miss Lottie," Miss Lily whimpered. "I'm scared."

"Hush, my girl, hush." Fang knelt down and placed his hands on Miss Lily's shoulders. He gazed into her eyes. "You return to the barracks, Miss Lily, where it's safe. No matter what happens, you and Bandersnatch stand guard there, all right?"

"Fang..."

He hugged her tightly and Lottie wrapped her arms around them both. "We'll come back and get you once this is over," she said.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The girl dashed off down the hallway, Bandersnatch bounding alongside her. Miss Lottie grasped her hands tightly together and pressed them to her lips. Fang touched her shoulder. "She'll be fine. Come on," he said to the rest of the guardsmen. "We must confirm our orders with Master Glen."

He found Glen Baskerville racing down the main hallway, heading toward the royal suite.

"Master!" Fang shouted.

The Duke whirled around. Impatience colored his features. "Mr. Fang, did you receive my commands?" Fang, Lottie and Doug all fell to their knees.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I couldn't believe-"

"You will kill everyone in this castle," came the icy reply.

Fang was not the one to question orders, but this sounded extreme. "Why would you do such a thing, Master Glen-"

"Hold your tongue! This is an order!" Glen slammed down the tip of his scabbard in emphasis. "Whether they are women or children makes no difference. Kill every last soul in this castle-! At once!" He raised his sword arm toward the royal suite. "Start with His Majesty."

* * *

After the Fang and the new recruits were sent away, Oswald lingered by the window. In the distance, he heard the shouting start as his Baskervilles confronted the King's Men. Exhaustion weakened his limbs as the emptiness grew from the frantic release of all of his Chains. Events of the past hour raced through his mind. The Gate exploded. He tried closing it, using all of the knowledge he had been taught over the years, but it failed him. The Foundations were breaking, one by one, sending tremors through the earth and sky.

Though the pane of glass, he witnessed the sky lighten along the horizon, as if daylight approached. But Oswald knew dawn was hours away. The sky itself was breaking.

An old ally stood by his side, cane in hand. "Master Glen," Celia whispered, "Have you released all five of your black-winged Chains?"

Oswald didn't answer immediately, letting his fingers linger on the glass as he saw the echoes of this dimension shiver. "I will use their powers to stop the 'Chains' from breaking apart." He didn't want to make the next decision, but he had no choice. He was Glen Baskerville, after all, and someone had to be damned by this responsibility.

"However, massive amounts of power are flowing into this world from the Abyss because the 'Chains' have been severed, and that power will attempt to swallow up this world. Thus..." He paused and furrowed his brow. This was the only way. This world's sacrifice.

"...I will gather all of that power here and return it to the Void of the Abyss along with Sablier!"

* * *

Carnage roamed rampant through the hallways of the castle. Nobles and commoner maids alike fled in fright from the red-cloaked guard. "Insurrection!" came the frantic warning as the men and women of the Baskerville House murdered everyone in their path. Blood and gore seeped into the rich carpets, into the cloaks of the Baskervilles, into the walls and the paintings and the stairwells. Fang led his contingent through the chaos, keeping the new recruits close to him and reassuring them not to panic. They were only obeying orders.

He approached the left wing gallery and stopped in mid-stride upon hearing his master's voice.

"...knowing full well this would happen!"

The air vibrated in a strange way. The presence of a Chain. But whose? Fang peered around the corner and from the opposite way, saw two senior-ranking guards notice the commotion with Glen Baskerville.

Immediately the other two dashed into the room.

"Master Glen! Are you all right Master Glen?"

A woosh of hot, bloody air and a series of screams.

"Hold!" Fang shouted, raising an arm. "Guards, stand back!"

"Mr. Fang." The eldest Baskerville turned toward the sound of a tapping cane.

"Lady Celia-!" He braced an arm across her chest, gave a short bow in honor of her rank, and then issued his command. "Go to the back of the column."

"Hear me out first. Inside is His Grace and an ordinary man. He's gotten ahold of a Chain."

"Impossible! An illegal contractor?"

"Yes, I've been listening to His Grace during the confrontation. It's a huge beast, apparently, named Oz the B-Rabbit."

"I've never heard of a Chain such as that." But now at least Fang recognized the power this creature wielded. "Thank you, my Lady, for the information. I advise you to return to the barracks immediately."

"Let me fight. I won't get special treatment." She crossed her arms. "Humpty Dumpty can help."

Fang felt terrible. Lady Celia was much too old for combat and barely out of basic training. Not to mention her physical impairments. Yet he was well-aware of her Chain's powers, and, as the contractor of Master Levi's Chain, she also was part of Master Glen's personal detail.

"As long as I can get close to the Chain, I can replicate its abilities," she said. "I can destroy this B-Rabbit using its doppelganger."

"All right." He pressed a hand against her shoulder. "Are you confident this is possible?"

"Yes, Mr. Fang."

"Proceed. And Lady Celia," he added, "Protecting Master Glen remains your priority over taking down the rabbit."

"Understood."

"Recruits, we will provide cover for Lady Celia. Miss Lottie and you three take the left, the rest come with me."

The woman lowered her cane and left it length-wise flat on the marble floor against the wall molding. She crawled forward, moving slowly around the bend of the doorway, letting her gloved hands feel ahead of her. Fang motioned for Miss Lottie's half to shift forward, and then his own.

Past the doorway, Celia kept her left leg and forearm flush against the wall. In her limited vision, the lights danced toward Oswald, providing a framework between herself and her goal. Ahead, she heard the giant Chain's loud breathing as the two men continued their conversation. A few more meters and she would be able to unleash Humpty Dumpty.

 _My Lady, beware..._  came her Chain's warning.

Suddenly, a loud grunt. A gust of wind swept across her shoulder and along her back, followed by a searing pain.

 _Too fast_ , Celia thought, briefly.  _The rabbit moved too fast..._

* * *

"Celia-!" Levi watched her collapse from behind the barrier. Her body cracked like porcelain, shivered into nothing more than sand before his eyes. Her red cape fluttered in the backdraft.

Blinding anger flared. He rammed his shoulder into the barrier. Through sheer will, Levi emerged from the other side. Oswald flashed a startled expression as Levi shoved the Duke aside and moved Oswald's body forward-

-the possession lasted only a few seconds. Fire raced throughout his entire spirit, but Levi saw, using Glen's vision, Baskerville souls snuffing out like candles before him. He glimpsed Miss Lottie falling to her knees, screaming. Fang hauled her out of the way. In slow motion, he heard him shout, "Retreat, guards! Retreat!"

Floating out into dust was Celia's soul. A look of pure shock graced her face, surprised by the quickness of her death. She raised her head.

"I see you."

"Your eyes-" Instead of her usual milky haze, her eyes were sparkling and deep. The color of springtime.

"I really see you," were her final words. Her spirit went up like a firecracker.

"Celia..."

Spectral hands jerked him backwards. He became bogged down by the density of souls.

* * *

"NO!"

Kahina threw him to the ground. The other Glens encircled them. Levi blinked in astonishment. The barrier was in full force once more behind the line of Glens. Oswald stood beyond that, fighting Jack. The burning sensation in his limbs didn't go away.

"You can't possess Oswald!" Kahina snapped. "What do you think you're trying to do-!"

Celia was gone. She tried something stupid. She got herself killed. She-

"I could've stopped her!" He made to rise and shove through again, but Kahina twisted her fist into the front of his lapels.

"It's too late," she said into his face. "And the Abyss forbids us from possessing the current Glen's body by direct force!"

"Why?" he snapped. "Hadn't you done the same-?"

"The Council restrained your consciousness when I took over, but at great risk. Look!" Kahina yanked aside her cravat and pulled down her shirt collar. A fine webbing of pale scars covered her neck and sank below her collarbones.

Levi gasped, the flare of his rage momentarily blocked. "What happened?"

"Work against the Abyss that ordains Glen, and your spirit suffers for it. Strain a body that's not your own too much or for too long, and your soul will eventually shatter."

"When you possessed my body-"

"I volunteered. I knew the cost and now you do too." She dropped Levi and his back slammed into the Flow beneath. They both stared at each other, panting from the emotion of the last few moments. "I'm very sorry about Celia, Levi. She didn't deserve that. But your reckless behavior must end."

"Kahina..."

"Leah would've wanted me to take responsibility for her son. Everything I've done, I've tried to do, I did to protect you and our world." A grim smile. "When did I become your enemy?"

Pain from Celia's passing became more refined, targeted. She made a needless sacrifice to protect this useless world. That was her choice. He had to accept it and focus on his own priorities. He clamped his emotions down, as a pasteboard grin crossed his face. "You're not. Why get angry at the puppet and not the hand?"

"I see. But..." Her expression changed slightly, a gentle curve around the eyes. "...my duty never impacted how I felt about you or your mother."

"I know," Levi replied. "I feel too, yet I know these feelings are meaningless." He got up from his hands and knees, brushed aside non-existent dirt. "Giving us Baskervilles something like love is as false as mating songbirds in a cage. We end up pretending. To ourselves. To each other. Because that's the only way we can cope with this existence."

At his words, he expected Kahina to lash out once more. Instead, she only appeared tired. Very, very tired. "Levi, were our lives together that awful?"

"No. It had been wonderful," he whispered. The grin dropped and the rawness emerged. "Everything has been quite painful and so very, very wonderful. And that's the horror." He raised his voice so the entire Council heard. "No one should ever come to love their gilded cage. But you did. Mama, Celia, Lacie, Oswald… Everyone does. Why can't this ever change-?"

The realm shook. The barrier behind him exploded inward. Shards of energy flew through the air. Glens cried out as the force tossed everyone like rag dolls.

"Wha-"

"Oswald-"

"He's-

"Wait-"

The atmosphere darkened. The ground quaked again and everyone tumbled about Levi. He fell and dug his hands into the Flow for support. The spongy material turned into quicksand beneath his fingertips. "What's-?"

As if a giant power source had been switched off, the luminescence around them dimmed further. Sick, sputtering sounds hit their ears, followed by a heavy  _thump, thump, thump..._

Up ahead, Oswald's soul lay prone and unmoving.

"Oswald-" He scrambled to his feet, but Kahina grabbed his ankle from her position flat on the ground.

"Oswald's body is dying, Levi."

"It... can't be..."

"Listen."

_Thump... thump... thump..._

That sound stopped.

His heartbeat. Oswald's life was no more.

His ward's soul remained still. "Is his spirit freed?"

One of the older Glens answered from behind him. "No, it's locked in the state of mortal death." Another tremor rumbled throughout the realm and several Glens huddled tighter upon the Flow. "His soul served as the current platform where Glen's Soul took root. Without a living Glen, there isn't an anchor for the rest of this plane."

A low groan, like the creaking of a mighty ship. Everything slowly started to shift on end. People slid across the floor. The Flow turned thick and viscous. Shouts of fright and dismay rose up around Levi as the not-waters of Oswald's dead consciousness transformed into a sticky black mire.

Kahina scowled. "Is this the change you wanted? To destroy everything which ever mattered to any of us?"

Immediately, she plummeted through the black mire. Levi shouted, tried swimming ahead to where she had been. His limbs floundered as the other Glens slowly sank below the surface. Up ahead, Oswald's spiritual form bobbed in this psychic ocean.

Levi never learned how to swim during his mortal life, and his lack of skill proved no exception in the afterlife. He waded, kicking and straining, desperately trying to make it to Oswald's soul. The deadness seeped into his clothes, his awareness, and he found himself drowning...

...until he broke through the meta-fabric of reality into the physical world.

Levi's ghost hovered at the base of the Tower, just before the stairwell. The dismembered corpse of Oswald Baskerville spread before him.

Off to the side, Jack asked the question posed on his lips.

"Glen, what's happened to you? You're in pieces..."

The blond man, covered in blood, stumbled down the stairwell. "Did I...do this...?" His voice resembled a scared child's, reedy and wavering. Jack walked through Levi, gave a shudder, and crouched beside the body. "Yes. I did this... because...you tried to kill Alice...I... used Oz's power..." A high-pitched giggle. "... to kill my best friend by my own hand."

As an immense boom blotted out all other sound... while the stone floor cracked into round-hewn boulders... during the final moments before utter chaos, Jack carefully gathered Oswald's head into his arms. Tears freely flowed down his cheeks.

"You..." whispered Levi. "...you chose this..."

The living world imploded.

Sablier fell.

* * *

Levi's awareness survived it all. He floated through endless space for an indescribable amount of time. Other souls of Glen drifted into the realm of the Abyss. He recalled seeing their forms, inert and quiet. So was he. Resignation filled him as he and the others swirled, moving as suds down a drain, among the debris and dead human bodies. Pieces of a fallen city and the hundreds along with it.

Tilting his head backwards, Levi sighted his final destination. The Void.

No more lambs, no more sheep, no more self-deluded idiocy which made people repeat the mistakes of a flawed world... Levi felt strangely calm. All of his lingering fears of nothingness had extinguished itself. This was the real choice, all along... To live in illusion or be released into oblivion...

"Are you Glen?" A young girl, beautiful, emerged from the falling shadows. Her dusky skin softly glowed from the specks of light. She had a familiar look about her: curly hair, high forehead, eyes glimmering deep as rubies. "Please, Glen, protect my sister! Save Kahina!"

"I know you," he gasped. The Child Who Lives in the Stars.

Chains rattled. They bound her limbs, dragging her down. The young girl faded into the Void.

Another figure, dropping. "My wife, she's the ninth of your kind! Find her!"

The Children of Misfortune. Each of their faces that were framed in the memorial alcove, brought to life. One after another. All twenty-eight Children from the past millennia. All being pulled into the Abyss in a series of spliced moments.

Time, Levi realized, was breaking. The distortions in the Abyss near the Void were increasing. Every Child of Misfortune who fell... existed simultaneously. Spiritual knowledge of something unspeakable touched their souls, even if the details weren't clear. As their ghostly forms passed through time, colliding into Levi's current moment, they saw him with their red eyes and delivered their final wishes.

"...Glen, save him!"

"Rescue them!"

"Save my niece!"

"My best friend."

"...my husband..."

"My dearest... please..."

As the fallen kings and queens of the Abyss drifted downwards into the Void around him, Levi's carefully crafted shell of radical liberation crumbled. Memories flashed. Levi as a child inventor again, ready to take wing. As a young Glen on the dais, unhinged over killing his family. Teaching him the language of the stars. In her embrace, caught in the throes of orgasm which eliminated all other thought. Beautiful and cruel. The story of his life. All of their lives.

Levi thought he accepted annihilation as truth, but that had been a lie.

"Levi..."

A woman in red flowing robes. Leah's hands, though bound, reached for his. "Fight for me." Her voice echoed. He realized Leah saw him double: now during this chaos, and her little boy on the edge of the Void, long ago at his first battle, Kahina by his side. "Never stop..."

He grasped for her and she slipped past into the dark.

"You." He turned and there she was. And there she is and always will be, locked in her bit of time before the end.

"Lacie, the experiment..."

Her wrists, chained by the black five, looped about his hands, resisting the force dragging her down. "I sang to our children." Her eyes shone softly. "But something's wrong. I glimpsed our world. Everything's being ripped apart. The Core's trying, but it can't fix anything in its current form." Quickly, she broke her hold upon his spirit. "Glen mustn't be destroyed. Please protect Oswald. Protect them all!"

 _I can't. I shouldn't. I won't_. But his soul, touching hers, said otherwise.

"I suppose," he drawled, "something can be done."

As she drifted away, he leaned in. "Lacie, I never said-"

"Me too." A smile. "You have a heart, Levi, and I loved it."

The Void's blackness masked her face. A spiritual snap vibrated in the atmosphere. The black-winged chains let go of her body. Levi hated thinking of her suffering, but the Void obscured her final moments and he couldn't judge either way. Levi's eyes widened as two small forms - his daughters - were born out of the Void and floated in a bubble of light away toward the horizon, waiting for the Core to claim them. A push from the Chains - his old friends, chains of conviction - and Levi felt them tangle in his soul and he climbed up toward the shattered sky.

Five black-winged chains were barely enough to enforce a small portion of the Abyss should the Foundations crumble. But, that moment - if Levi believed in a benevolent destiny, he would have called it fate - there existed more than five black chains. For every Child dropped in time, there was a split moment when the five were free. Twenty-eight times, one hundred and forty black-winged chains. He summoned them.

"Raven, Owl, Dodo, Gryphon, Jabberwock, hear me!" he commanded. "You may not recognize me, but I was, or will be, your partner. Black-winged Chains, Glen is endangered!"

The Chains heard, or sensed, this as true, for they recognized the disjointment in time alongside the Child they dropped. The force of collapsing timelines as all hundred and forty chains, twenty-eight different versions of the black five shook the Abyss and he yelled:

"Your Glen falls! Catch them! Hurry!"

Blurs of motion out of the nothingness. The Chains travelled, linked somehow between the Glen they currently served and their Glen's dead and disintegrating spirit in the morass. Levi was captured by a set and lived his own life in triplicate at that instant - at age twenty-nine, smiling as his mother died - and he soared into the bright-lit sky and recognized himself at age twelve, gripping Kahina's hand and roaring into the light and flame by the edge...

In the distance, he saw Kahina's spirit being snatched up and pulled to safety.

Oswald's soul-self was hauled above him and Levi grabbed onto the youth's shade, hugged him tight. Oswald's spirit remained dormant, unmoving, unaware, trapped in that moment of his mortal death.

"Fly."

And they did. All of them, souls of Glen falling towards the current destruction of Sablier while simultaneously boomeranging into each of their past timelines.

This wouldn't be enough. Levi's knowledge of how time works was scant, but he knew there could only be so much doubling (and tripling) of one's own existence (living or dead) before something terribly metaphysical happened. They needed a place to land, together, whole, or else be scattered once more or worse.

They needed to break free of Oswald's lifetime and allowed into another's. Glen's Soul must enter the Hundred-Year Cycle.

He stretched his consciousness across the Abyss and performed a sacred duty he never attempted while alive. He experienced contact with something divine. "Abyss, we beg you, allow us in the Hundred-Year Cycle together."

A stirring around him. The Abyss reverberated.

"Release us into the next life."

A flicker of a moment, barely acknowledged.

Judgment.

A bright light, piercing through everything. Levi clutched Oswald, held him as a terrible regret suddenly clawed through his spirit.  _Damn it, damn it, curse it all..._ He was nothing more than a sheep returning to the flock. The Children died, the Glens remained trapped. He'd become one of them. He couldn't bear to carry out his wish for true liberation.

The tendrils of the Abyss responded as he rose. An unnamed powerful force gathered around him and Oswald, covered each of the falling Glens, loosened the chains from each as the links snapped back into their proper time and place.  _Everything I wanted, I've thrown away. But why? Why had I-_

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* * *

**_The Book of Levi; And Other Fantastic Fairy Tales_  will conclude on February 15th, 2015.  
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**Check out story art, fanmixes & more at the-book-of-levi on tumblr**

**Your reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	27. One Hundred Years

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_Year 0_

They land, somewhere. A realm more hollow than Glen's Soul, more nebulous than the depths of the Abyss.

Neither light nor dark exist, and yet Levi can see himself and the rest of the souls of Glen scattered on a flat plane, broad as a piece of paper. A single line beneath them serves as a boundary for the ground; a single line above perhaps is the horizon. He is sure this isn't an afterlife of any sort but he knew it wasn't oblivion either. Pure neutral limbo.

Why did they come here? Was this is the place where mortal souls wait until their next life? Can't be, not from all of the religious texts and near-death accounts Levi had read over the years. Could it be that, as a Glen, they are allowed into the Cycle, but not the same dimension where human souls reside?

It is as if they had been an old memento dumped in an empty box for safekeeping rather than being tossed away.

He notices other Glens are already up and walking. He heads across the nothingness to one he recognized as the eldest Glen, the one who had commanded the Council and threatened to lock his consciousness away years ago. The man walks five steps, pivots, walks five steps more, pivots again, all while muttering to himself.

"Glen, what happened?" Levi moves to take the man's shoulder. The person stops before him. Levi's eyes grow wide; the former ruler's features are gone. No bloody marks, no signs of injury. Simply wiped away covered by a streak of flesh. But a voice comes from this man's blank visage, rambling:

_"He said, 'I look for butterflies  
_ _That sleep among the wheat;  
_ _I make them into mutton pies  
_ _And sell them in the street...'"_

Levi lets go and immediately puts a hand to his own face. Did he have eyes, nose, mouth? Is he a faceless being too? He feels their outline and sticks his fingers into his mouth, his nose, his ears to make sure he actually possessed orifices. He does. Blessed be.

Cautiously, he surveys his surroundings. The men and women who seem to be conscious are roving aimlessly along the plane, or rocking to themselves. Others are sprawled on the ground, some still, others flailing. One by one, he approaches them, peers into their faces. Some appear normal, like him, but whisper or shout lines and phrases that make no sense. Some are talking as if in front of court, giving high flown speeches. A few are talking as if holding private conversations where only one side could be understood. One man kept clutching himself, moaning, and yelling, "Yes, yes, oh gods, yes!"

What were they doing? Reenacting parts of their lives, perhaps? And why are some whole and others disfigured?

In the distance, he spots a blur. He retreats further and observes. Little whirlwinds move about; one passes him and he hears tiny conversations and glimpses little moving images therein. Memories? But whose? And why?

The tiny whirlwind that he tracked arrives at one of the prone Glens and settles upon her. Suddenly, as if she had been an automaton and the whirlwind a brass key, the woman's eyes snap open. "I don't know what you mean by that, Sir William," she says, frowning. "The Lord Chancellor cannot claim lands beyond his means. We must speak with His Majesty at the small council meeting later today..."

"I see..." In the chaotic upheaval out of the edge of the Void and into this limbo, each of these Glens had gotten separated from their memories, or even separated from parts of their spirit self. They are slowly resembling themselves, but without a place to truly exist in this dimension, they only had the option of living inside their memories...

But why did Levi retain his awareness? Is it because he had been the one to plead with the Abyss, and so his soul served as the focal point, the eye of the storm in some sense, when all of the Glens were transferred outside of time and space itself? Or was this some kind of absurd judgment for the actions he had committed?

He counts the bodies surrounding him and doesn't see all Glens accounted for. Neither Oswald nor Kahina are to be seen.

But they had to be  _somewhere_ in this limbo. Levi raises his head to face the thin black line ahead of him and begins to walk.

* * *

_Year 8_

Oswald lies as if presented in state: straight, arms folded across his chest, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword. His eyes are closed. Levi thinks upon seeing him that this is another delusion his mind has created, that as soon as he approaches the man, he will vanish just like every other time.

He kneels down by Oswald, hesitantly places a hand on the man's chest. Solid. Real, or at least as real as anything is in limbo.

Levi gives a giggle of pure relief and throws himself across Oswald's body. His shoulders shudder and he gives a halting cry, "My boy, Oswald, my boy, here you are, here you... are..."

Much time passes as Levi lies there. Both are mere spirits, so he's not checking for breathing or a heartbeat. Levi takes simple joy in company again.

A low stirring sound. He raises his head, sees the whirlwind. Familiar voices he had long since forgotten echo outwards.

" _Hold on, Oswald, don't jump in too hastily. Ah, let me ask this, Glen. What do you like about Lacie?"_

" _That she isn't cute."_

" _My sister is very cute!"_

" _Ah, that's not what I meant."_

Oswald's memories. Levi watches the whirlwind approach but makes no move to leave. He wants to hear living voices again. He wants to see their animated faces, their smiles, even their tears and hatred.

The little whirlwind hits them both and Levi's sense of self is blown away. The force knocks him across the plane and something dislodges inside himself. Vaguely, he sees Oswald's memories settle inside the sleeping man's body. A second whirlwind hovers, ever so silently, above his chest.

Who is he? Where is he? What's this?

Levi stares at the whirlwind of his own memories that had been knocked away.  _How quaint_ , he thinks and reaches out-

* * *

_Year 15_

It is happening again. Everything is happening again. Levi sits at a distance, viewing this strange and fantastic tale. He didn't know exactly what he was seeing, but eventually, he figured it out. That boy, the cheeky white-haired one, this is his life. He starts off born marked to die, the spawn of an enslaved child bride, and the bride abandons him and escapes.

An blind girl is assigned to be his companion to raise him until his time comes to be sacrificed to that nation's bloodthirsty gods. But they are rescued by his mother and taken across the ocean. He comes to a castle, where there is a stern ruler, and then all the fun really begins.

This is the four hundred and fifty-second time Levi is viewing this story, and he finds nuances he had never grasped before each time. Not that he always watches straight through. Sometimes he scrolls forward or backwards. He can skip years, even decades. Some scenes he views on repeat.

He pokes the silent companion by his side, who has remained asleep this whole time.

"Hey, hey Oswald... it's starting again... want me to jump ahead a bit? I never liked the beginning all too much..."

* * *

_Year 27_

_In the forest, smoke drifts in the air. The boy pulls out his sword until he sees his best friend emerge._

_"Levi, if you dare chop my head off you will regret it. Lady Leah, please come before Glen notices you've gone too."_

_"I'm not going anywhere unless my son wishes to follow."_

"'Celia...'" Levi says, repeating the words in time with the boy, "'Glen is plotting to kill my mother...'"

"Hey, look at her." He pokes Oswald in the shoulder. "How come Levi never realizes Celia took her rucksack? She planned to join them too. But I bet Levi thought Celia would've been a hindrance, which is why he left her behind. What a selfish brat."

Oswald doesn't respond.

Levi props a fist on his chin. "Oswald," he asks, "if we're stuck here, and human souls go elsewhere, where do you suppose the Baskerville guards go...?"

He frowns and sighs. "Never mind. Forget I asked."

* * *

_Year 36_

_Kahina scowls. "Is this the change you wanted? To destroy everything which ever mattered to any of us?"_

Levi has thought of a million responses to that question.

But more than anything, he just wants to hear her voice again.

* * *

_Year 45_

Always, his favorite moment in this story is a simple one.

_The man sits at his desk. It is early morning, and the sunlight streams through the open window. He yawns, stretches. The man had been writing all night and exhaustion weighs him down._

_He gets up, drops his clothes to the floor, and wraps a dressing gown across his stiff, sore body. He goes to the bed and slips beneath the covers._

_The woman is already there, sleeping. But as soon as he tucks himself beside her, he reaches over and plants a light kiss on her mouth. Her crimson eyes peer open a sliver and she gives a half-drowsy smile._

_"G'morning."_

Levi pauses the memory, puts it on rewind, and plays it again.

* * *

_Year 77_

"Hey, hey, you there... don't you think Levi treated that other ward rather unjustly-?" The man sighs. "Levi made a vow to the Council, but he could've done his duties as Glen and not kept Oswald in the dark. Right? What do you think?"

The sleeping man says nothing. As usual.

* * *

_Year 83_

"Leah Baskerville was obviously in love with Kahina from the very beginning. And Levi was simply jealous of that, wasn't he? Because he loved her too. Ohhhh, what a triangle!" The man slaps his knees and turns to this friend. "That'd be a scandalous romance, right? For a son to be jealous of his mother and his mother's lover? Eh? Oooooor..." A wicked grin.

The man lies down on his stomach, stares into the other man's immobile face. "What if Oswald loved Arthur and was at odds with his sister? But then Lacie gets pregnant and she won't tell anyone who the true father is: Jack or Fang! How provocative!"

The man laughs at his silent companion's visage. Outlandish! That's not how the story plays before them, but it'd be exciting to take these characters and put them in all sorts of creative alternate scenarios.

"How about this? Leah could be a witch, queen of the underworld. She orders her minion Levi to come to the real world and tempt all the good souls into following him underground. The only hero left to stop them is Lord Raymond Nightray and his league of magically-endowed assassins!" The man claps his hands together. "Now  _that'd_  be a story worth watching. Not this sentimental slop."

* * *

_Year 91_

"You... hey you..." says the man. "I'm bored. Soooooooooo bored. Utterly predictable, this story. Good gods, I'm  _bored_."

* * *

_Year 100_

Abruptly, the thin black line above them splinters. Beams of the universe come pouring through. For the first time in ages, something resembling heat enters limbo.

The man is spread flat on the nothingness. Memories play overhead, but he had stopped paying any attention a long time ago.

As the bits of warmth spread before them, the man glances over and sees his companion's lips move.  _Oh,_  the man thinks,  _how novel._

In a rush of deafening noise and dark lights, the remnants of Glen slip away. The man hears a baby's cry and then, a fog envelopes all of his senses...

* * *

They move as sleepwalkers do, the occupants of Glen's Soul. They live in semi-stasis, a dreamworld.

...yet moments of clarity break through the fog...

_"Oh." Levi blinks. "Sorry. You're not who I expected."_

_The boy flinches. "Who are you?" the boy exclaimed. "No, go away, please go, I said I didn't want to hear you again!"_

_"Me? I think you must be mistaken." Levi tries to recall when is the last time he had spoken, but can't. To compensate, he smiles. "You shouldn't be so rude to your elders."_

...but not often enough. And sometimes, all he is aware of is the flash of memory without context, and he accepts it, confused and sad.

_"But just now, though not unconsciously, you asked us to help."_

_Levi interrupts the conversation. "Do you want that boy to live?"_

_Leo eyes him and Levi knows he recognizes him as that Glen who spoke to him years ago. "You can do such a thing?"_

...and through this vague timeframe inside Leo (just Leo), Levi sees a story he cannot fully comprehend, but its novelty keeps his attention. He longs for something new to preoccupy himself in this haze. Until...

* * *

About one hundred and fifteen years since Sablier had vanished from the face of the earth, a small group of cloaked people slip into a forgotten abode. Once, a famed alchemist lived there, but she is no more, and the estate had gone to ruin. In the deepest part of her mansion lies a precious relic of an age gone by.

The crystal gives off a soft glow. The leader of the group gestures to his partner, who takes out his spiked mace and in a single sweep, breaks the rusted chains. Then, the leader raises his sword, mutters the appropriate prayer for luck, ("May we fear nothing but what the Will allows.") and smashes it through the crystal.

The world seems to tremble for an instant.

The crystal shatters like glass. Oswald's blackened arm tumbles to the ground. The small group all exchange glances among themselves and it is like a tiny shaft of new light had entered the world again. One layer had been lifted from all of their spiritual senses.

The hood falls from the leader's face. Fang grimaces at the mistreatment of his master's remains. In grim determination, he declares to the surviving members of the Baskerville guard: "Now, we've destroyed one!"

* * *

A shaft of self-knowledge pierces through Levi's awareness.

_"Oh, what a relief..."_

* * *

The crack echoes overhead as somewhere, the final crystal breaks. The spell over Glen's Soul is lifted.

Levi finds himself in the Flow, the new construct of Glen's Soul. He remembers everything. He exists. He knows himself. He-

Before him, Oswald stands up. At his feet Leo huddles, covering his ears. "Not listening, not listening, go away..."

For the first time in a long time, the two men stare at each other. Levi stands there, smiling. After over a hundred years of talking to him, he feels he has said enough.

Still, it is Oswald who initiates the conversation.

"Don't try to stop me."

"Stop what?"

"From what I need to do."

The boy trembles beneath them. Weak and vulnerable. Levi realizes then that Oswald has taken control of that boy's body. "Oswald," he says, "Possess Leo and push him too far, and your soul will-"

"I'm aware. Lady Kahina had shown me what happened to hers."

For a moment, Levi nearly blurted out, "Where is she?" before he remembered that Oswald must be referring to a time when the Council spoke in his soul. "Then why-?"

"Unlike you, I'm willing to throw everything away to save this world." Oswald gives a sweeping gesture. "Can there even be limits to  _your_ imagination?" he sneers. "You always said we cannot change the past. But this is the only solution we have to save everything. Lacie must die before she ever meets the Core of the Abyss. Or Jack." An unfeeling smile. "Or you, Levi."

* * *

In the outside world, Rufus Barma and the boy once known as Leo watch the rain fall from beneath the pavilion awnings.

"Wast thou able to recover thy self-awareness and memories of Glen?"

"Yes." The boy watches the sheet of steady rain before him. "I comprehend what I must do now. I know the means by which to completely obliterate the distortion which lead to the collapse of the 'Chains'..."


	28. The Last Fairy Tale: Curiosity

For you

* * *

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away, there lived an inventor who was endlessly curious. He possessed an iron heart, which made him live differently than a normal human. No one liked to associate with a man who didn't possess a real heart, so the inventor never told anyone. He wasn't sorry about his situation at all. He believed his curiosity motivated him the most, not his simple metal heart nor other simple human beings.

His curiosity led him the view things in different ways, and in what manner he could change the world around him. One day, he sat on a wide field and looked all about him at its flatness. "How boring!" he thought. "Wouldn't it be interesting if there were more places to roam in this field, yet still remain in one place?" He drew out a maze upon the ground and called this puzzle a labyrinth.

The king heard of this inventor's labyrinth and invited him to build one for his castle. "There exists a terrible monster that the world cannot abide," said the king. "And we must put it in the center so it can never escape."

The inventor didn't really care about how the labyrinth was used, but he was certainly intrigued about whether it could be built. After a hundred days and a hundred nights, he had the maze finished. It was so large and convoluted that the inventor himself had gotten lost in it and could not find his way out. He built himself a Tower in the center of the labyrinth, and there he lived, fiddling with his tools and machines.

When he ventured out of his Tower, however, he saw a creature with the mark of a beast upon her brow. "What is this?" he asked. "Who dares wander inside my perfect invention?"

"I was born a monster with this mark upon my brow," said the woman. "The world cannot abide me, and so the King had this labyrinth built as my prison."

The inventor had no idea that the purpose of the labyrinth was to entrap someone like her, and he felt sorry that his invention had been used for harm. "Let me figure out a way to free you," he offered and investigated ways to escape the labyrinth. He wrote letters and attached them to the legs of birds and released them into the air, calling for help.

Eventually, he received a reply from a master spinner who lived on an island far away. The spinner sent him a ball of yarn and a note that said, "Tie one end to the center of the labyrinth, and let the yarn unspool behind you. That way, you can discover a path out. But this is a magical ball of yarn and once unspooled completely, it will disappear forever, and another one cannot be made again. Use it wisely."

"Marvelous," said the inventor admiringly. He tied of end of the yarn to the foundation of the Tower and gave the ball to the cursed woman. "Here is your escape."

The woman was endlessly grateful. "I don't think we'll ever see each other again after I leave the labyrinth," she said, "but please don't forget me."

As she slipped around the curve in the maze and disappeared into the distance, a crack formed in the inventor's iron heart, and yet it did not break.

The inventor ended up thinking about the woman day after day, and even contemplated his own escape. Watching his friends the birds, he realized there is a simple one if he learned how to soar like them. After a hundred days and a hundred nights, he completed his second creation: a pair of wings made of brass and wax so beautiful and articulate that the birds themselves were jealous.

When he ventured out of the Tower to test these wings out, however, he discovered a young man outside. "What is this?" he asked. "Who dares wander inside my perfect invention?"

"I was born with lights inside my eyes, which made the sun jealous," said the young man. "The world cannot abide me, and so the King sent me to this labyrinth as my prison."

Again, the inventor felt quite distraught that his labyrinth was being misused so. He desperately wanted to see the young woman again, but freeing this poor man took priority. The inventor gave his brass wings to the young man and taught him how to use them.

"Be careful," he warned, "for these wings are made of only brass and wax. Fly too close to the sun and they will be damaged beyond repair."

"I will," promised the man. He was endlessly grateful. "I don't think we'll ever see each other again after I leave the labyrinth," he said, "but please don't forget me."

With that remark, he took to the skies. The inventor watched the man rise above the walls of the labyrinth and further still, until he was no more than a mere speck in the distance.

"Oh no," thought the inventor. "Why is that youth climbing up? He'll provoke the sun's jealousy again, and for certain his wings will melt!"

He climbed to the very top of the Tower and called out, "Young man! Young man, beware!"

But it was too late. The wings folded in on themselves and collapsed. In sadness, he watched the young man tumble to the earth and disappear. Another crack formed in his iron heart, and yet it did not break.

For many days and nights, the inventor did not rouse from his rooms. His thoughts swam with loss over the young woman, and grief over the young man. Yet one day, he peered out from his Tower to see an extraordinary sight: a two-headed unicorn bickering with itself outside.

He raced down the stairs to confront this creature. "What is this?" he asked. "Who dares wander inside my perfect invention?"

"We were born with the misfortune of possessing only a single body," said one head.

"But we want to live our lives apart," said the other. "The world cannot abide us, and so the King sent us to this labyrinth as our prison."

The inventor, again, became saddened by this turn of events. If this lovely unicorn was forced to be trapped in his perfect invention, then the least he can do is make them happy. He exclaimed, "I shall build a new body, place one of your heads upon it, and that will release you both!"

He tinkered in the Tower for a hundred days and a hundred nights, until he finally created a lovely unicorn body out of ivory and pearl. This was a splendid creation, but the unicorn sisters argued over who would keep the body of flesh and who would get the body of ivory and pearl.

Finally, the elder sister decided, "I deserve to keep my body," and tried to cleave her sister's head from their breast using her horn. The elder stabbed their shared chest and pierced their single heart. Only one sister could live and the other had to die.

"I'm sorry, I was so selfish," cried the elder, "I deserve to die."

"No, I'm sorry I was so ungrateful," cried the younger, "for not taking the body the inventor built."

As the inventor saw the two unicorn sisters dying, he felt a third crack forming in his heart, and yet it did not break.

"Dear elder sister," he cried, "take this old heart of mine. You have a greater need for it than I, and I'm sure I can always build another."

So he placed the younger in the body of ivory and silver and took out his iron heart and placed it in the body of the elder so both could live as happy they could be. He had no regrets about his decision, because he had no use for a heart, he thought, as long as he had a sound mind and endless curiosity.

The sisters were endlessly grateful. "We are going to try and find an escape, " they told him. "We don't think we'll ever see each other again after we leave the labyrinth, but please don't forget us."

They wandered through the labyrinth, far away, until the inventor lost sight of them in the distance. After many days and many nights, he wondered if they too, discovered a way out, and he hoped they and the young woman found each other.

After unicorn sisters, however, the inventor created nothing more. He never grew interested in building another iron heart. All of the ideas he once held died away. All of the dreams that triggered his inventions petered out. He stopped being enticed to make things new or different or better. What had happened to that curiosity he took so much pride in?

The inventor searched for answers in all of his books, but one could not be found. Finally, he decided to use his dreams to speak to a boy wizard, famed for his wisdom. He laid down in the Tower and recited a magical spell to carry his spirit into the realm where the boy wizard dwelled. In his dream, he saw a small cottage, and inside the cottage sat a young boy, reading. The inventor entered, and the child welcomed him.

"Hello, hello," said the boy wizard. "I see you're seeking my help. What question do you have?"

"I have lost all of my curiosity," bemoaned the inventor. He told the boy wizard about all his inventions and the people he had met. At the end of his tale, he asked, "I have lived in this Tower for so many years, but I don't understand where I misplaced it!"

"Let me look." The child pressed his hand to the inventor's spiritual chest. "How unusual!" he exclaimed. "Where is your heart?"

"I am not a man," the inventor admitted, "but a being who can live without a heart. I once had one made of iron, but I gave it away to save another's life."

"Why did you give it away?"

"Because it was useless and kept cracking," explained the inventor, "yet remained strong enough to help another, so why not?"

"I see," said the boy wizard. "Foolish inventor, didn't you know all passions come from the heart? Even ones made of metal or stone or wood contain your feelings. Your curiosity had been stored there, and when you gave it away, you lost everything inside."

The inventor sat down by the wizard and was quiet for a long time, contemplating the child's words. He thought about the young woman and her cursed mark, and the youth with his cursed eyes, and the unicorn sisters in their cursed body. He thought about how he helped each of them, and how each had disappeared from his life. He thought of remaining for the rest of his days in the Tower, trapped in his most perfect creation. Even if he were to remain in the labyrinth forevermore, as long as he could help others trapped inside - for good or for ill - perhaps that would satisfy him enough.

Finally, he thanked the boy wizard for his knowledge. "I have no regrets, but one question. Though heartless I may be, and my curiosity gone, I possess all of these emotions. Where did they come from?"

The child smiled. "Those are the feelings others gave you, which reside where your heart once was."


	29. Beginnings

Now shift forward (or backwards, or sideways) through the events of our story. We are coming toward a close - not the final close, not at all, but near enough - to our tale. We can't tell you anything more than we already know, but what we can do, darling reader, is put a few more things in perspective.

Please bear with us a little while longer.

* * *

Lacie sees Leo's possessed body in the whirling of chains and light during her last moments in the living world and gasps. For a split second, she thinks this is a vision from her own past, of that random swordsman in the snowy woods. For years, she had brushed off the incident as trivial, or linked the young man to an assassination attempt by their first caregivers, or even to the group of slavers who eventually bought her and Oswald and carried them across the sea.

Now the truth dawns, and again, she realizes why the glint in this young man's eyes are intimately familiar.

"Big brother..."

A miracle.

The evening before, she had told Oswald how this world is full of them...

_"Thanks to these eyes, I was able to experience the cruelty and ugliness of humans... but that also means that I was able to know beauty as well. It's all a matter of looking at things from different angles. You can feel how beautiful, fleeting, and precious all sorts of things are when you realize that what you thought was a given is in reality a product of miracles."_

Lacie, on the brink of her destruction, recognizes her brother in Leo. The anguish etched into this stranger's face is her brother's pain. In a bright moment of lucidity, she knows how much grief Oswald will bear far in the future, even in the body of a different Glen.

That swordsman she saw as a child in the snowy forest was Oswald, still hurting.

There is only one thing Lacie can do in this moment to ease his suffering.

"...I'm sorry..."

Her heart, which had been flooded by unspeakable darkness mere moments before, opens up. All of the emptiness that had eclipsed her life ekes out. She'd despaired because of sheer bitterness the previous night. But seeing her brother and his future grief reconstitutes her to the very essence of herself.

It is only through a miracle of this world that she'd gotten this opportunity to comfort him.

In these final moments, this revelation flows through her entire spirit. An indescribable feeling of immense love for everyone and everything radiates from her wicked little heart.

Lacie smiles.

And then she falls.

* * *

"...I'm sorry..." she says.

And then he falls.

_What are you apologizing for? Please don't look at me with that sad smile, as if you had finally understood everything..._

The words echo in Oswald's head, even as he slips out of the fractured memory and descends through time. Oswald grips his head in frustration. Back then, when Oswald saw her mouth those words when she was dropped, he couldn't surmise their meaning, but dreaded that they'd been full of grief and subtle accusation. The pain he had been repressing since he had been a young boy came creeping out from the darkness of his heart.

Once, when he was eighteen, Lacie ran away from home after he said something unforgivable to her: that even after she was gone, he'd have to deal with the consequences. It was particularly unforgivable because it planted a bitter seed inside Oswald: he will become his sister's murderer and he despised her for it. He held resentment against himself for harboring that tiny seed, and he had tried to uproot this feeling many times since.

_"The Child of Misfortune is born from the existence of Glen Baskerville. It is your responsibility to properly dispose of what you created."_

Putting duty over pain - isn't that what Levi had meant, all those years ago? (But why is Oswald even thinking of Levi's advice-? Levi is to blame for this! Lacie is to blame for this! Jack is to blame for this! Everyone... is... no...)

After the Tragedy, for one hundred years in limbo, Oswald dreamt of nothing but his memories and his shortcomings. His failures. His losses.

Caught in the whirlwind from which he couldn't escape, a century's worth of anger had fueled his actions... but he had been just as furious at the people who betrayed him as he had been at himself.

In the end, when he came to full-awareness and saw Levi standing there, smiling that buffoon smile of his, Oswald was struck with the bitter realization that his love hadn't been enough for Levi. Or Lacie. Or Jack. Which is why they each had cast it off so easily for their own selfish plans.

In that sense, Oswald had no one to blame but himself. Because he was nothing but a pathetic trusting sheep.

Throughout this entire time as he fought to fix the past, Oswald thought he had been alone.

Now, seeing Lacie apologize to him - him inside Leo, from the past to the future him - he knows she hadn't been apologizing for being born at all, or for putting him in that horrible position against her. She was apologizing for everything else. For keeping secrets. For lying. Even for leaving him, as if under her own volition.

Hot tears drip upwards as Oswald plummets through time.

* * *

Once upon a time, on the other side of the world, far away where endless snow covers the realm, and where its rulers act as cold as the land they lived in, a group of time travelers arrive in a patch of forest. Spindly bare birch trees surround them, their sharp branches reaching up toward the steely sky as if seeking an escape.

The toy-chain-human known as Oz crouches on his hands and knees in a snowy drift, watching Oswald clamber out in Leo's body.

Inside Glen's Soul, Leo makes a move forward, but Levi grips his elbow in a gesture of instinctive caution. An old childhood emotion he thought he had forgotten makes him suddenly tense. Levi hadn't been prepared to see his native homeland, even in this distant timeline.

He lowers his chin. "We've arrived," he observes. "This…is the past that Oswald was aiming for. I dare say, this is likely a memory of a time before he and Lacie had awakened as Baskervilles when he existed as 'just Oswald.'"

Levi estimates this may be at least a few months before he will find the pair in a seaside port town, victims of child trafficking. Would this be a time before the slavers captured them? Before their first caretakers had decided to give them away?

The cracks, though minuscule, Levi notices. Like the fine scarring he had seen on Kahina, he notices the same pattern starting to form on Oswald's wrists, the back of his neck, the hollow of his throat. Oswald's spirit is weakening under the strain of controlling a body he was not meant to have. By the rules of the Abyss, Leo was marked as the next Glen, and in disobeying this rule and pushing Leo's body to the limit, Oswald is breaking all the natural laws of this universe. For which he'll ultimately pay the price.

 _Oh my boy, you've become such a rebel._  Levi would smile at the irony that his child who acted the most like a sheep in life would become more rebellious than Levi ever was in death, but Levi cannot even rouse a sense of nihilistic joy.

Oswald had committed himself to a suicide mission for the sake of the world since he had regained his full consciousness, but even as he throws himself into his duty, Levi knows it is all a lie. This is more than duty that compels Oswald, but the need to blame someone. Blaming himself is obvious, but Levi knows he and Lacie are also culpable in placing Oswald on this path. The path which demanded the same ultimatum his sister faced: let the world be destroyed or destroy yourself.

As Oswald's endgame unfolds, Levi's grief formulates slowly and delicately, like how a sheen of frost builds upon a windowpane.

"For him, this is also his final destination."

Out in the winter forest, the only sound is the soft crunch of boots upon snow. Ahead on the crest of a hill stands a little girl in a soft plush coat and a white fur wrap. This is the youngest Levi's ever seen Lacie. Her delicate cheeks glow pink in the cold, complimenting the redness of her eyes.

In steady determination, Oswald approaches her. His fist tightens upon his blade's hilt. A few yards away, Oz makes a move toward Oswald. He extends a hand as if to stop him and his lips part as if to yell, but Oz does neither. Instead, he lowers his arm, and, like Leo, Levi, and all the rest on that snowy field, they watch.

Brother and sister, separated by over a hundred years of time and all of the changes that entails, confront each other. Flakes drift downwards, get caught in their clothing.

This is a meeting long-awaited, and Oswald stands, sword-arm ready...

* * *

"Mama, I don't feel good."

"There, there, sweetheart." The consoling motion of his mother's hands through his long hair. "I know you're scared, but it'll be alright."

Levi wants to run and hide. Or he wants those doors to open and to have Celia come out and be with him and Mama. He curls up on the padded bench in the mostly empty hallway before the audience chamber of the Baskerville castle, his tiny face buried in his mother's lap. "I'm right here, darling," she assures him, "and will be by your side the whole time."

"What happens if Glen Baskerville doesn't like me? What if Glen says I gotta go back...?"

"No, no, no, that can't happen," Mama whispers in his ear. "Remember what I told you on the ship? The Baskerville House promised us a place to stay forever."

Levi has only been living at the Baskerville estate for a few months. Still, nearly every night he has nightmares about the place he and Celia escaped. After recovering from an arduous sea voyage, he, Mama and Celia, along with the troupe of red-cloaked guardsmen sent to lead Mama's rescue mission, arrived at the Baskerville estate. Since then, they had lived together with a giant Tower all to themselves.

These past months have been the happiest Levi had ever been for all five years of his life so far. Yet today Levi is going to meet the ruler of this giant castle for the first time, and he is terrified.

"But what if the Baskervilles change their mind?" he presses.

"I'll make sure they won't." Mama kisses the top of his soft white hair.

A tiny  _tap-tap-tap_  is heard and Levi lifts his head to see little Celia, holding the hand of a castle maid and a short brass stick with the other. "Levi? Levi, where are you?"

"Here!" Levi calls and scrambles out of Mama's lap to totter over and crash into his bond-cousin in a ferocious hug. She drops her stick and says in a rush, "They're letting me stay, they're letting me stay!"

"You're not going to your island?" Levi knows Celia had been born on a tropical isle somewhere in the middle of the ocean, and had lived there with her aunties and uncles until the people from the Big House took her away.

"Nuh-uh. Glen asked what I wanted to do, and I said I wanted to stay here with you and your mama and Glen said yes!" Celia hugs him tighter and the two of them jump up and down in excitement. "I'm so happy!"

Levi feels a hundred times better knowing his best friend would be able to stay. Worry returns, however, about his own fate.

"Do... do you think Glen will like me?"

"Yeah, I'm sure! His voice sounds a bit stern but... I think you'll like Glen too." Celia pats Levi on the top of his head. "You're too cute for him to send away."

"Young miss," the maid says. "Let us return and get you dressed for the evening meal."

"All right." She gives a wave in Levi's general direction as the maid leads her down the hallway. "See you back at the Tower, Levi!"

The huge double doors to the audience chamber swing open. Levi surveys the immense room, lined by various noble men and women. A long red carpet cuts the marble floor in half. At the very end, which seems quite far away, is a circular dais and the single towering chair of ornate gold and silver. Glen Baskerville is seated on that throne, staff in hand. Levi's eyes grow round seeing that imposing figure.

"For the next order of business," says a booming voice. "Announcing the household's newest member, Lady Leah Baskerville, who is here to present her son, young Master Levi Baskerville, for Your Grace's introduction."

His mother squeezes his hand, and together, they enter the audience chamber.

* * *

Sometime after Leo's acceptance as the new Glen, Levi walks soundlessly across the Flow, sending little ripples as he moves. Not all of the Glens had fully regained awareness again after the trauma of the Hundred-Year Cycle, and he steers himself away from several wandering souls. Low mutters fill the air in this part of the spirit plane, but in this particular corner stands a deep velvet curtain that seems to block off unwarranted interaction. Levi can't precisely pin down when this curtain appeared on the plane and who exactly placed it here in Glen's Soul, but it reminds him of that drapery which hung before the memorial alcove from long ago.

He lifts the curtain and there she is.

"Yo." He waves an unacknowledged hand.

Kahina sits on a replicate of the gold and silver throne. One hand is in her lap; the other loosely holds her beloved wooden longstaff. Her neck is turned slightly to the side and her head angled downwards, as if she had been prepared to listen in on a secret. Her eyes are half-lidded and her mouth is solemn. Levi sits down across and slightly to the left of the throne, guru-style, so he can gaze into her distant expression.

He had found her, finally. She breathed, so he hoped part of her remained aware. Yet she hadn't made a single utterance or gesture of any sort as far as Levi knows. No muttered lines from her past. Not cries of pain, joy, or sadness. He can't tell if she is lost in memories or had sequestered herself away to another part of her mind, refusing to interact anymore out of stubbornness or despair.

He'd sat there for countless lengths of time, trying to decipher the shadowy flickers of emotion that pass through her face. He had yelled, pleaded, swore, and everything in between in order to provoke a reaction.

Now, he simply comes to talk.

"We've all had our experiments, didn't we?" he begins. "I thought if I could only do the exact opposite of everything I thought had gone wrong between us, my time as Glen would've gone better. I'm sure I was your little experiment as well, and you were changing up all sorts of factors you hadn't wanted in your own life when rearing me."

No answer, but Levi has long become accustomed to that.

"You are stubborn, I've always thought. Stubborn and intolerant of my opinions. I didn't want to be that way. So I tried to live as accepting as possible." He sighs. "I thought tolerance meant not to judge, but even in tolerance, I judged everything, including myself, to reach a certain standard of truth in life. But I realize I'm foolishly more human than I ever thought I was. It's oddly... liberating."

Off in the distance, Leo must be waiting for him. After putting the youth in such a precarious position as an untrained, inexperienced Glen, Levi decides he can't leave the boy to figure everything out on his own. Leo's grown used to him in a way. Maybe Levi can offer a sort of mentorship. Well, admittedly, he doesn't have the  _highest_  success rate when it comes to any sort of advisory role, but it isn't as if he plans on going anywhere else anytime soon. Someone has to reform the Council after all; it might as well be him to start.

He gets to his feet. "Nothing much else to report. I just had that notion and thought you'd appreciate it." Levi turns his back to depart.

Something takes hold of his wrist.

He angles his head, gives a genuine smile which comes from deep inside. "Sorry, nearly forgot." He removes Kahina's hand from his sleeve and places a sincere kiss upon her knuckles before replacing the hand onto her lap and giving it an affectionate pat. "We'll chat again soon, mother. Hope to see more of you then."

* * *

An icy wind stirs through the forest. Oswald breathes, arm upraised.

Young Lacie stares in curiosity.

_"...I'm sorry..."_

She apologized. Lacie knew, and she had apologized.

Oswald has failed so many times in his life. Yet he is glad Lacie had recognized how she failed him too.  _We can both be sorry, you and I, Lacie._

Yet he cannot let those failures defy their relationship and smear all the memories he has of her. These memories are his and he doesn't want to destroy them with this action. He thinks,  _Let me keep what I have. What I am. Even if people hurt me, even if I remain alone, I cannot lose my love for them. It's all I have left._

The sword arm droops and the weapon falls out of Oswald's grip. "This is as far as I go."

Oswald collapses onto his hands and knees in the drifts. "I can't kill Lacie," he mutters to himself.

Slowly, Oswald's anger peters out, and he thinks a weight which had sat in his chest for the last hundred years is cracking into pieces.

Little Lacie turns her head toward a rambling figure coming over the crest of the hill. "Big brother!"

A very young Oswald emerges dressed in furs and wool. "Lacie! Don't wander off like that. I told you to wait over there, didn't I? I managed to find a place that looks okay for us to sleep at. Let's rest there for tonight."

Oswald remembers this moment. This is the final day they stay in this country, two unwanted illegitimate children. Soon, the snow will whip up and the men will take them away. Soon, they will be cast off to sea toward another shore and learn their destinies.

But before that all happens, little Oswald pats Lacie on the head twice, brushing off the flakes of snow that had drifted on top. He takes her gloved palm in his. "Let's go."

The two children move down the slope of the snowy hill. Lacie gives Oswald a wave of her tiny hand as they continue their story.

His chest feels like it is breaking apart. No, his entire body is breaking apart. His eyes crinkle up in happiness and relief at his solitary decision. In a brief flash, forgiveness and release encompasses his entire being as memories of their faces rise up like smoke before his eyes. He will always cherish this feeling.

When it comes down to destroying Lacie to save the world, or destroying himself to save  _his_  world, there is no question who he'd sacrifice.

In the distance Oswald hears Miss Lottie gasp his name as he falls to the ground.

* * *

Inside the Leo's soul, Levi has something caught in his throat as he watches Oswald's spirit shudder. Fine cracks had solidified throughout the man's form.

He remains motionless for an instant. He does not cry out. He falls as gently as a tree falls. There is not even any sound, because of the memory of snow.

And the lights.

"Levi!" Leo exclaims. "What the hell is going on?"

Levi somehow manages to speak around the heaviness. "Well…Look for yourself. Do you get it Leo? You are the current Glen. In spite of that, Oswald took control of your body. And this is the result. Oswald was aware of that."

In the snowy forest, Lottie and Oz circle the fallen man.

"Glen."

"Master Glen…!"

Oswald hand gropes, grabs his guard's wrist.

The Baskerville Duke is struggling to remain cognizant. "Pl…Please…Charlotte…Even…if…I disappear…"

She places herself by his side. Both of her hands tightly grip Oswald's weakening one. "Don't worry! We will support Leo, the current Glen."

"Because, Master Glen, you are  _my_  leader," she assures him. The tears glisten in her eyes. Levi watches her expression and thinks of Fang and his dedication to the Baskerville House. He wonders where his old friend and longstanding soldier is now in this strange world. Wherever that place may be, may he be proud that the reincarnation of his dear wife continues to fight in his memory.

"I will not let the world you tried to protect be destroyed. That's why…"

Oswald smiles.

Inside Glen's Soul, the spirit of Oswald Baskerville breaks into a mass of sparks. The vision is one of the most beautiful and one of the most wrenching things Levi has ever witnessed in his long and extraordinary life.

He doesn't know if Oswald remains angry at him, and in that moment, it doesn't matter. What matters most to Levi is that his loved one finally earns the true rest he deserves.

The lights blaze like small supernovas and then, they twinkle and scatter into the air. They become absorbed into the fabric of reality, somewhere. Levi imagines these sparks zooming out into another realm, mingling with the darkness inside the Abyss, until the light and the dark settle and sway against each other as boats do in harbor.

"Good night, sweet prince. Sleep well."

As tired, bitter, and cynical Levi has become, a deep-rooted sweet sorrow pours into his heart. This emotion, too, will pass. All things must pass and transform into something new. That is the story he needs, one which leads to a ceaseless number of endings and beginnings. To always glimpse another beginning, perhaps, is to envision one's freedom.

Levi watches. He waits, as he has always done and will always do. He doesn't necessarily believe in hope anymore, but seeing the wispy flakes twirl in the cold air through Leo's eyes, he allows himself a tiny measure of anticipation.

He loves snowy days.

* * *

The carriage jostles along the market roads under the hot midday sun as Levi observes the two small children he had rescued from the slaver. All large eyes and dirt and limbs. And yes, he can tell they are in dire need of a bath.

Doug sits in front with the driver to give Levi the opportunity to get to know the children without provoking any further fear. Certainly, when Doug had lifted the children out of the cellar, the girl shrieked upon seeing the dead man in the middle of the room. In response, the older boy grabbed her hand and both dived back underground. It had taken Levi another fifteen minutes of patient persuasion (and just enough time to have Doug remove the body) to convince the boy that no, he wasn't going to murder them, honest, and yes, the big man next to him was actually quite a good fellow.

From the high-class dialect the children use, Levi is sure they are descended from nobility. Perhaps illegitimate children of some former mistress in his native country, cast off for their mixed looks rather than being brought into the household. Easy to discard inconvenient children by selling them in some distant land an ocean away. Levi is thankful they do not share his coloring - if the girl had been white-haired instead of dark, at least, she would've been bought by a nobleman in the same manner his mother had been.

Neither of them had spoken to him since he got them out of that cellar. Levi knows they share the same common language, and he even studied up on his mother tongue the last few months to help their transition as Baskervilles. He can't even get a name out of them, though.

On the plush seat across from him, the boy clutches the girl and the girl grips her worn-out stuffed rabbit.

Levi points to the toy. "I have one too. It's not as soft to hold, but it's quite clever." He reaches into the rucksack under his seat and brings out Skipperjack the rabbit and Mister Buckeye the parrot, two of the mechanical animals from his childhood Menagerie.

"Watch this." He pulls two brass keys from the chain around his neck and winds them up. Mister Buckeye begins squawking and flapping his wings. Skipperjack bounces off his lap into the girl's and then leaps between the seat cushions.

The girl giggles and tries to catch the brass rabbit as it jumps. The movement of the carriage makes the toy ricochet off the seats, but she succeeds in grabbing it and holds her prize between two hands, giving another excited squeal. "Look, look, I got it!" she tells her brother.

In that moment, the boy comes to a decision about Levi. "Oswald."

"Eh?"

"My name is Oswald."

"I'm Lacie!" the other pipes up, swinging her feet against the seat. Skipperjack twitches wildly in her hold before she releases it again. The rabbit bumps into Mister Buckeye and the two toys tumble together onto the floor. Lacie's laughter at their collision fills the air like silver bells. Oswald grins at her playfulness.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"To the royal pavilion to get you two cleaned up and some decent rest for a few days. And then it's off to the Baskerville estate."

"What's there?"

The corners of his eyes crinkle a bit as Levi smiles, making him suddenly appear much older than he let on. "Over there, we have many different types of music and toys and games. There's a huge garden and forest for you to roam in. My people are all pleasant folk. I'll show you everything you need to know about this new world." He can't help but add, "Don't worry, Oswald, Lacie. I'm not like those other adults you've known."

He takes their small hands in his, gazes into their eyes. Oswald and Lacie. His new wards, the next generation of their kind. Levi remembers meeting his own Glen as a little child, clutching his mother's hand in the audience chamber. He wonders whether they are as nervous as he had been then (or, more truthfully, as nervous as he currently is.)

Levi squeezes their palms. "So much awaits us, darlings."

And the carriage moves on.

* * *

End.

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* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank YOU so much for travelling with us on this journey. We look forward to hearing your feedback and reviews. You can continue to follow us on the-book-of-levi@tumblr and tiniestdormouse@tumblr for more information about future tales and art in The Book of Levi story-verse.
> 
> Much love,  
> Tini  
> February 15th, 2015


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